


Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

by LiteratureWork



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Edward's 1000 years old, Gen, Harrypotter/Fullmetal Alchemist crossover, Philosopher's Stone, Philosopher's Stone AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-01-09 23:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 116,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12286218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiteratureWork/pseuds/LiteratureWork
Summary: Nicholas Flamel was famous for creating the philosopher's stone, but like Lockhart's smile it was all a lie. Flamel stole a part of the stone and it took Edward 642 years to get it back along with the souls inside of it, one which was his brother. But after traveling to Hogwarts to retrieve it, Dumbledore has other plans for the ancient hero. HP book 2/Brotherhood. Please Review.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Moved this story from FF.net over here. It is updated and being lightly revised.

**_Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage_ **

_The Man in the Red Cloak_

 

“There has been rumors that he’s back,”

“Y-yes, a man in a red cloak has been seen going in and out of towns in London-”

“But is it _him?_ ”

“I believe so. News from the leaky cauldron says he is heading towards Hogsmede-”

“He’s after the stone. He’s after Flamel. Follow him Lucius, bring him to the Dark Lord. Don't fail like that snivelling idiot Quirrel.”

“And the stone?”

“He isn't the type of man that would leave such a piece behind.”

…….

“He’s back?”

“He has been spotted in the leaky cauldron. He apparently is headed this way Albus.”

“Are you sure it was him?”

“Red cloak, metal arm, hair like the sun, it is him.”

“I didn't expect he would have made an appearance so soon. Flamel said he would be coming for it once news got out but-

“He is after Flamels stone?”

“Correction,Severus, he is after his stone. Flamel gave the philosopher's stone to me to safe keep but it never was truly his. He has gotten angry over the years and now he has come to get it back.”

“Should we move the stone, Albus? If he knows it's here-”

“You act like he's the devil. On the contrary, Severus, Nicholas is the one in the wrong here. He is just coming to claim what was taken from him.”

“So we just wait till he arrives? I really don't think such a powerful man is going to come in peacefully.”

“As i have heard, he has always had a thing for the dramatics. However we must await for him here for the safety of ourselves and the stone. For I fear there are some less hospital people who would like his acquaintance as well.”

……

Edward peered out over the hills of the abandoned forests and saw the dim speckle of lights that could only come from the well known yet perfectly hidden wizarding school named Hogwarts. They danced across the waters of the surrounding lake, welcoming the new school year forward as the late summer months turned to fall. It has been ages since he had come into contact with the place yet it appeared to have never changed. But however nostalgic the castle could have been, he wasn't there for fun and games. It has been too long since Flamel left his side. He had been on that wizards trail ever since he stole the stone away from him but wizards were a tricky breed and always managed to slip through his fingers. Now, with hell's fire burning in his eyes, he was finally going to get it back.

“ _It's been too long.”_

_“_ I know,” he replied stiffly into the wind.

“ _Do you think they're still-”_

_“_ Yes.”

_“The stones been used for a couple hundred years, a few are bound to have-”_

“He's still there,” Edward snipped a bit harshly. “He has to be.”

He started down the mountainside towards where the gleaming castle sat across the lakes shore. He had a lot of ground to cover but he knew that with every step he took he would be just that much closer to his destination. As he wound his way through the treeline he found it thinning as it gradually grew into a small village; Hogsmede.

It was small, only really good for its food and a short few repairs from a local seamstress. A normal human would have went through the town and taken up a carriage to travel the rest of the way to the school. In fact, Hogwarts made frequent trips by carriage into the town just for the older students delite. But the school year had not begun and he wasn't a normal human. He found that taking a carriage would have just made the local townsfolk worry. He knew how the common wizards liked to gossip and rumors spread faster than fire. And though he could deny some, not all tales were false.

In fact, he learned long ago what dangers there were when he opposed the wizarding community, even the muggle community. He didn't like to stand out even though he knew he would never fit in. He was no muggle yet he was no wizard. He kept to himself over the years, becoming much of a hermit yet never truly alone. It took a great deal to get him out into the public of the wizarding world and every time there were stories made about his ancient red cloaked figure that he really didn't want to listen to. They weren't anything of a bed time story.

As Edward made his way towards the outskirts of town, his ancient red cloak billowing behind him, he froze as the familiar popping sound ricochet behind him. Apparition always got on his nerves as wizards tended to have the nerve to show up randomly uninvited. The floo network however was worse as those wizards might really have been invited but they tread black soot all over the nicely cleaned house.

He turned around to spot a dark cloaked figure lurking by the back corner of a cottage as if they had been there waiting for him. He knew he was being watched but he didn't realise that the wizards would have decided to address him at all, especially those from a young radical group. However they always were an impatient bunch.

“Are you the one they call the Eastern Sage?” The slick voice of the Death Eater, drawled out behind the token gaudy mask that obscured his face. Edward had many titles over the ages yet the Eastern Sage was the one that stuck in the legends. It sounded silly as he was nowhere from the east. He, hating that name, annoyingly nodded his head in reply and earned a rather harsh chuckle in return for his bluntness. “My master would like to meet you.”

“Get in the back of the line then, for there is only one man I am going to see tonight and it isn't him,” he grinned cruelly beneath the dark red fabric of his hood.

“If you will not come peacefully, perhaps some force would make you less complacent.”

"You are an idiot to think that you could force me to do anything. I have a full schedule and I do not have time to deal with you. I have places to be,” he huffed as he turned his back on the stranger. There was a rough yell as the wizard chanted one of his endless spells. A hot white ball of fire shot just a couple inches past his right cheek, a type of warning, a threat. It sputtered out pitifully as it hit the side of another cottage. He froze in his spot with anger and annoyance overwhelming him.

“ _Just take care of this guy. We aren't going to get him back if you keep messing with this fool.”_

Edward turned around to see cocky grin on the death eaters face. It appeared that the man assumed he had the Eastern Sage beat. However, he couldn't have been farther from the truth.

“If you wanted to fire a spell at me you should have made sure your first one hit its mark,” he seethed as beneath his old and travel worn cloak he clapped his hands together. There was a soft ring as the air seemed to ignite with a sense of electricity. It was a power that he was quite familiar with yet so many of the wizards forgot about. It was the overwhelming intoxicating science of alchemy.

Edward slammed his hands to the earth and rubble and dirt tore apart in piling spikes towards the offender. There was a pop as the death eater quickly apparated out of the way and a few meters to the south but he already had another transmutation heading his way. Spells shot out of the Death Eater's wand as more of the earth was torn up from the fight. The balls of fiery energy flew through the air towards Edward, whizzing past as he danced out of the way. A couple he couldn't dodge but they sputtered out pitifully with a swipe of his hand.

“It would take more than your stupid magic show to take me down. Don't waste my time!” Edward scolded the wizard as he dodged another green flash of light. He was getting tired of dealing with the persistent man and just wanted to finish what he came there to do. However the wizard ignored his warnings and continued on as street after street was torn up. Lights of nearby houses turned on and he heard a few screams from open windows. Wizards were gathering in fear and amazement to watch the battle and he felt himself growing aggravated. He was so close to getting his stone back. He couldn't dance with this radical soldier for the entire night. He also couldn't let any of the civilians get hurt because of his recklessness.

“ _We don't have time for this. Let me handle this.”_

_“_ No. You are not coming out just for this idiot,” he whispered back as he sent another stone cascade upon the wizard. “You will destroy the entire block.”

“ _You want to get them back right? Let me out. We don't have time.”_ He looked around at the small village and saw that even though the houses and shops stood completely fine and untouched the roads were torn apart and destroyed. He doubted that any carriage magical or not could make it through like this. If he continued he was sure that eventually the entire town would lie in a pile of rubble. He couldn't fight the death eater like this. The wizard was quick he would give him that, so he needed precision.

_“_ Fine,” he huffed. With a clap of the hands and a touch of the earth crimson light rose up from the ground as a single body of stone was formed. A suit of black armor grew with perfect craftmanship, from many years of practice. It stood alone in the middle of the beaten street and silence called itself to the battle. The death eater froze in his place, wand cocked and watched the spectacle before them. The only movement in the town was the soft gusts of wind that flew down the streets and tussled the fabrics of their robes.

Edward took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, clapping his hands once more. A bright red circle filled with many runes, few who knew the meaning of, etched it's way in the air between the Alchemist and his armored creation. The eerie light casted a blood red glow across the village as the he brought his hand to his chest. He pulled away and a small red flaming spark danced around his fingertips as if he pulled the energy right from himself. The light was entrancing and onlookers of the scene would find themselves unable to look away from the flickering crimson lights. He casted the energy at his creation through the array and the entire armor ignited in a beam of red. The blinding light roared to life and burnt the town a bright scarlet as it grew. The armor it engulfed started to shake and quiver, joints grinding stone against stone. It violently shook and rattled making everyone but the alchemist anxious to see what would happen to it. Suddenly the light shot out and the armor froze in its spot, darkness of the night settling back where it had previously been as if it was never disturbed.

“Come on bastard, like you said we haven't got all day,” his voice cut through the tension of the night at the stiff statue. As if on command, the stone suddenly began to move. It stretched it's limbs out and they creaked as the stone continued to grind against each other.

“What is this?” A sudden cry sounded as the death eater gaped at the sudden moving and conscious life form before him. The Alchemist glared at the wizard in absolute annoyance.

“I told you to get out of my way,” Edward yelled at him. The armor lifted his hand up towards the stunned wizard, posed to strike. Just as the death eater struggled to cast a spell, the armors fingers snapped and a pillar of flames shot out. The earth near the wizard exploded in fire and charred cobblestone and rubble errupted from where the armor hit its mark. Horrible screams ricochet off of the cottages and filled Edward's ears. He looked away from the flames, unable to bear himself of another memory of them.

Edward only dared look back once the flames were extinguished by the cool night air and the smoke cleared. All that could be seen was a quivering hurt figure where the tall and prideful wizard once stood. He carefully let out a breath of air and snuck his way over to the rubble to seek aid for the casualty, leaving the armor where it stood. He found the death eater whimpering where he laid, his robes scortched and torn from the attack. Though the street around him was near destroyed from the fight the damage that the warrior sustained was minimal, a broken wand arm with a third degree burn. It was an injury cause with deadly accuracy.

As Edward examined the wizard for any more injury, the wimpering man finally got a better look at the legendary figure. His cold eyes widened in shock as he stared into the face of nothing more than a teenager.

"Y-you're a child-"

"Looks are very deceiving," Edward hissed as he leaned over the wizard and clapped his hands together. The man behind the mask seemed a bit startled in fear of another attack but he just grabbed a hold of the wizards wrist. With a shock of electricity, the burns on the wizards arm healed down to its minimal capacity, much to the uncomfort of the casualty. He gathered up the wizards wand from where it was dropped and flung it down on his chest. The man picked it up quickly, not wanting to be disarmed in the presence of his overwhelming power.

“If you know what was good for you, you would apparate out of here. I don't have time to mess with you and this bastard won't be so easy on you next time,” he warned the death eater.

“What are you?”

“Nothing you want to mess with,” Edward huffed as he stepped away and allowed the death eater to scramble to his feet. The man was worse for wear but managed to get up. “Leave. And tell your foolish bastard of a Dark Lord to come find me himself. I lived too long to take orders from a child like you.” The alchemist turned around and started to walk back towards the suit of armor he had created. He heard the satisfying crack behind him as the death eater apparated out of sight to some unknown location. He sighed as stumbled over the broken streets that they tore up in their short lived battle. He really needed to control himself. With a clap of his hands he set the cobblestones back in their places and the road was returned back to new.

“Why did you let him go?” the armor asked as he passed by it.

“I don’t have time for him. We need to find Flamel.”

“Why didn’t you kill him? Their small group is starting another genocide. He obviously had plans for their leader.”

“Why didn’t you kill him oh all powerful Flame Alchemist?” he retorted in a childish mocking tone. The armor, if it could show expressions, was taken back. They both knew that those flames could have done a lot more damage than the armor had let out. “We have been here for too long to be bothered about stupid wars. We always know who starts them and how they turn out. Especially the stupid ones over so called prophecies or destiny. I stepped into the wizarding world to get the stone back. I don’t want to get tangled up in their mess more than I have to.”

“People will die-”

“And I didn’t choose to be their damn savior!”

_Edward!”_ One of the million voices in his head scolded. Of course it had to be her. He groaned as he placed his head into his hands to try and massage his headache out that came whenever Winry talked to him. He knew that she was always right, _always._ But he didn't want to deal with her nagging then. He didn't have time.

“Look… I know what their little radical group is going to turn into but… that doesn’t mean I have the right to take their life just like I don’t have the right to take any of yours. Besides. We already saw what chaos happens when wizards get their hands on me. More people will die if I interfere and you know it. That’s why you went with sparklers rather than your fireworks display," Edward told the armor that temporarily entombed Colonel Roy Mustang’s soul. The man just stared down at him for a few moments and Edward knew that there wasn’t an ounce of disappointment in it but rather understanding. They all remembered the day that the wizarding world found out about the philosopher’s stone. They had all lost someone that day and even after 642 years they were still fighting desperately to get them back. Edward sighed as he spun around and started to head back down the streets towards the path that lead to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

“Come on bastard. I took all that effort to put you in a body the least you could do is keep up.”

…….

“No! Come back! My dad will kill me!” Ron shouted after the beaten car that was currently speeding through the forbidden forest without a driver. After being driven right into the whomping willow Harry could understand why it wouldn’t want to spend another minute with Ron in the driver’s seat. When the two of them had taken the car from Kings Cross station in order to get to school, they imagined a more victorious entrance to the grounds of Hogwarts. Instead they were battered and bruised and a little worse for wear than they were when they left all thanks to the car stalling out and finding itself a nice perch on the whomping willow.

“That’s great. We managed to hit the only bloody tree that hits back,” Ron grumbled as he looked down at the mess that was left over from the chaos. Luckily though, before the car went on its temper tantrum, it managed to fling their luggage out with it. Harry picked up his trunk along with his owls cage and started to march towards the castle, knowing full well that they were late for the sorting ceremony. Ron followed suit but sped up the green as he didn’t want to miss his own sisters sorting. They all knew that she was going to get into gryffindor, no weasley they knew ever wasn’t, but it was the sake of being there to watch.

Harry knew that the grounds would have been abandoned since the feast and the Sorting was going on so he didn’t have to fear over Professor Snape finding them out. But he couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching them. As he looked up the park towards the doors of the castle he noticed two figures marching their way in. Their backs were straight in determination and it reminded him of soldiers going off to war except one was wearing a rather beautifully crafted suit of armor while the other was dressed in a red cloak of sorts.

“Who the hell are they?” Ron asked as he saw what Harry was staring at. The two of them watched as the two strangers disappeared into the castle undisturbed. “Do you think they are our new Defense teacher?”

“Don’t be silly Ron. Lockhart is our defense teacher remember?” Harry reminded him as memories of their meeting in Flourish and Blotts haunted him.

“Well they’ve got to be someone new.”

“Obviously.”

“But who?”

“Good question. Let’s get to the feast and find out,” Harry suggested as he knew that the only place someone would go at this hour was the room with the food. With grumbles in their stomachs he knew that Ron agreed and they raced their trunks into the castle without another word.

…….

Edward stormed through the doors of the castle, his anger rising in his chest. He was so close to Flamel he knew it. When he found him he was going to beat the living hell out of him. Mustang was rightfully more angry with the wizard than Edward was and he was actually afraid of what the man might do to him when they got their hands on him. But first things first, they needed the stone.

Edward had been to Hogwarts when it was first made. It was when his curiosity of the wizarding world had peaked. He knew it because he attended there for a couple of years. It was quite a long time ago when he was naive enough to think that magic could have helped him in any way. The only thing that he managed to learn at the school was that behind all of the silly spells they performed, wizards were a sly bunch of people with more tricks up their sleeves than they could fit. That was exactly how he was overcome by that blasphemous Flamel. Even thinking of that man made his blood boil and hushed curses fly from his mouth. However lucky for him, the castle didn’t change. It was the same old thing with the hour glasses and all. And even he knew that the wizards were ones for tradition so he knew exactly where to find everyone. It was the first day of school so where else but the feast?

Just as he was about to break open the doors to the Great Hall, or in his schooling what was called _Granda Flett,_ he felt a rough heavy hand rest on his shoulder. He looked back to see the stone cold armor of his former Commanding Officer stare back at him. He felt his raging anger settle down in his chest as the man made him take a moments rest, diverting his attention from what he was searching so long for.

“You know what could have happened to him. You know Flamel has used it,” the man said calmly to him, his armored expression not changing.

“I-I know, Mustang. But he is still there I can feel it. We just need to get the bloody stone back from that bastard and-”

“What are you going to do if he really is gone?”

“Something stupid for sure. Are you going to stop me?”

“As long as you keep me out here I will,” Roy replied softly, for he knew the pain that accompanied loss far greater than Edward would ever know.

“Good, I have done enough stupid things in my life,” Edward said as he looked up at his old friend even though the face he created for him was far from familiar. The soul fire eyes that ignited the armor with life were nearly identical to his brothers as their bodies now were now one and the same. However, Roy’s body was only temporary and he saw a dim flicker in his Commander’s eyes and he knew it was time to go.

“I am sorry, but you have been out for too long. Your soul can’t stay bonded forever,” Edward sighed as he lifted his right hand. The armor shifted like he was going to stop him however before Roy could scold him, he beckoned with his hand the soul that he had placed in the armor. The metal body shook violently as Roy tried to fight him, wanting to stay in the armor longer. He didnt want to return to the hell within him. However the eyes started to dim and Edward pulled his hand back, the fiery red flame of Roy’s soul dancing around his fingertips once again as the armor went slack.

“Don’t worry Colonel. He’s still alive. You don’t have to worry about me,” he told the man softly as if to reassure him that everything was going to be alright. Slowly he brought his hand to his chest and the flame returned to where it came, the philosopher’s stone in his heart. Edward sighed as he looked back at the empty armor, noticing how much lonelier the world seemed without its presence.

Edward turned back to the door as he felt his own anger flutter a bit as an ounce of fear washed over him. It had been 642 years since Flamel stole a portion of the stone from him. The man undoubtedly used it to keep himself and his blasted wife alive this long. How much of the stone was gone? Most important question was _who_ was gone?

_Get him Edward. Get him back. Bring him home,”_ he heard Winry's voice command him. Edward nodded his head, feeling her desperation and anger inside of him. He straightened out his long red cloak and fixed his stare on the doors of the _Granda Flett_.

“It sure has been too long,” he huffed, the fire burning back in his eyes. Edward kicked the doors open and marched into the large room which was cluttered with students in their colorful robes sitting at their respective tables. A small group of first years were scattered in the middle of the aisle waiting to be sorted into their respective houses. The loud roar of applause from the previously announced was hushed almost instantly into still silence when they caught sight of the stranger entering the room. Edward felt all of the eyes fall on him as he stormed his way up towards the _Heah Beod_ where all of the professors sat in shock, though his intentions were locked on one. The grey bearded bastard sat in his grand throne and just watched him knowingly as he stared back.

“Where is he?!” Edward shouted at the Headmaster of the school, who was wiser than his years had let on. He shoved a first year out of the way who didn’t have the mind to clear the road. He was done fooling around. “Where is Flamel? Where is the stone?” The headmaster blinked a couple of times as if he didn’t understand what he had just said. Edward growled as he walked past the sorting hat and the young witch that was conducting the ceremony. She looked amazed and absolutely baffled at his language and passing that it didn’t seem to register with her that he was infact an intruder to the school.

“Why, Master Alchemist,” the headmaster said with a welcoming smile that did anything but reach his eyes, “I must inform you that you are speaking in old english again and I am afraid I can’t understand you.”

“WHERE IS FLAMEL!” Edward raged in the modern tongue just for the headmaster as he slammed his hands down on the table. He had forgotten the new language as he had been so comfortable talking to Mustang earlier. He heard shocked gasps behind him from the students who probably thought he was going to murder their headmaster, which he didn’t think was a bad idea. Albus Dumbledore looked a little more satisfied now as he stood up from his chair and walked around the table to meet him.

“Suppose we should talk about these rather personal matters somewhere else? Maybe after the feast?”

“I have been chasing that bastard for over six of your lifetimes! If you tell me to wait one more minute-”

“Master Alchemist-”

“My name is fucking Edward Elric you stupid fool. Do you honestly not remember or has the years gotten to your head? Obviously they haven’t gotten to mine,” Edward hissed at him. Albus just shone a small smile at him like he normally did and gave no other reaction. Edward felt the anger in him completely ignite as the man, barely bridging the century, had thought he had him beat. He grabbed the old wizard by the collar of his robes much to the fear of everyone in the room and brought him down to his level. Edward’s golden eyes latched onto the headmasters with a cold burning glare that could only come from an older brother.

“Now, where is my little brother? Where is the stone!” he hissed at him, the anger bubbling inside of him.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen,”  he heard a smiling voice say from the table. Edward looked up for a breif moment to see a rather decorated, overly dressed wizard smiling at them. He looked as if this entire scene was a joke and for an instant Edward actually felt as if he preferred the Headmaster’s company over his. The man gracefully rounded the table,  his cloak billowing behind him and the smile still plastered on his face.

“I am sure that this dilema can be a little… vexing but we must keep in mind proper manners” his charming voice chuckled. “We are at a feast! We have guests! I am sure you can bash each other’s brains out some other time but here we must remind ourselves who we are talking to. You young sir need to remember how to talk to frail elders. We didn’t earn all of these titles for nothing. Why I myself am Order of Merlin, Third Class, an Honourary Member of the Dark Force Defence League; and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award. But even with all of these titles at such a beautifully young age, I know when and how it is proper to talk to my elders. As they say, children should be seen and not heard!” Edward stared in annoyed disbelief at the man the entire world knew as Gilderoy Lockhart. He had heard almost everything about the man within the first five minutes he stepped back into the Wizarding world. It was a horrible new fanclub of witches buying the man’s narcissistic books just to find out the bravest adventure he went on which was all a figure of his imagination. The overly confident man now was scolding him like a child for interrogating Dumbledore a man who was bridging 100 years of age and very well known in the entire wizarding world. Now Edward knew he looked young, nothing over 16 years of course but in his case, very severely, looks betrayed his years. He turned back to Dumbledore who, under his professional mask, looked just as annoyed as he.

“You hired this fucking idiot didn’t you?” Edward asked the man who just raised his eyebrows ever so slightly as if to admit they all make mistakes. He heard some snickers pick up from a few of the faculty members but they quickly died out. Lockhart had his feathers ruffled and his face turned a little red in embarrassment. For such a man, he didn't seem to take to humility.

“I’ll have you know-” Lockhart started but Edward cut him off, ignoring the fool entirely. He didn't have time to mess with most people, him least of all.

“Albus, I have been searching for this stone for too long. Now tell me where Flamel is hiding! I know it's here!” he pressed. However the headmaster continued to smile cheerily as Edward felt the smooth wood of a wand press into the side of his neck.

“Well, for a man who has been searching for over half a millenia, three silly first years seemed to have outwitted you,” the slick voice of the offending wizard said behind him. Edward glanced back to see a black robed professor standing behind him with his wand pointed at him. He didn’t even hear the man sneak up. “Headmaster, I have two boys, I am sure you know which two, down in my office. They need to be expelled properly by their head of house.”

“Expelled Severus?” Dumbledore stated as if the word evaded him.

“They better be for what they have done.”

“Very well. I will see to them,” the headmaster said completely ignoring the fact that Edward still hung onto him by the collar of his robes.

“I am not done here!” Edward growled at the two of them, mostly Severus, as he send him a warning glare to put the wand away. “I will not leave here without the stone. I know it is here! Where is Flamel? Where is he?”

“Why Master Elric,” Dumbledore said like his questions were childish. Edward tightened his grip around the man, threatening him as he was pushing the line just a little too far. He seemed little phased by this as the man behind him just pressed the wand harder into his neck. “Flamel is gone.”

“He’s what?!” Edward exclaimed as he realised that yet again he was too late. He had been chasing that child around the entire world for ages just for him to slip through his fingers yet again. He was gone and now the chase had to start again. How long would it be this time until he caught up to him? A hundred years? A thousand? Edward felt all of the fire, all of the rage, smothered in him as his hope of finding the stone that evening was crushed.

"Damnit, damnit, damnit. That fucking skalpie-limmer is probably halfway to bloody Paris by now," he growled loudly as he released Dumbledore’s robes. Some of the faculty held strucken looks as they heard him curse in front of a whole school full of kids. He didn't care. They would learn eventually, probably newer and more insulting ones than the vocabulary he still held. They were so close to catching Flamel once and for all but he always slipped through their fingers. He was always one step ahead of them. They had made a week's trek all the way there from the last place they caught him in but now it was pointless to stay in the castle any longer. They needed to get going, to keep up with that blasted Flamel or else Edward feared he would never find him. As Edward turned to ponder his options he heard the Headmaster call out to him.

“Master Elric-” he said but didn't get much more out when Edward spun back around with the most foul glare he could muster.

"What? What could you possibly want? Can't you see I am busy?" He felt his fist clench up as glared at the overly smug man across the room.

“Flamel might be gone but the stone is an entirely other matter.”

………..

Harry and Ron sat nervously in the Potion Master’s office awaiting for the professor’s return. The two of them knew that they were going to be expelled for sure, especially if Snape was the one to catch them. They had let muggles see them on their flight to Hogwarts in a _flying car._ They had broken not only the statue of secrecy but also put shame on the Weasley’s name since Mr. Arthur Weasley worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. The two of them were mentally debating if they could have done anything worse that evening or if they topped the list when the Professor returned with McGonagall and Dumbledore no less. They all strode in with disappointed looks on their faces. Well, except for Snape who looked like he couldn't be happier for their upcoming expulsion. Harry had seen McGonagall mad only a few times and each one of them was just as frightening as the last however the anger that shown on the witch’s face that evening topped it all.

“Explain yourselves, the both of you!” she ordered the both of them, her voice tense with rage. Harry and Ron looked at each other, silently asking who was going to tell but the Professor didn’t await their answers. “Driving a car! In the _sky_! Through Muggle London! Why didn’t you send an owl? Why didn’t you wait for your parents?” she scolded in absolute hysteria. Her voice turned more shrill as she yelled at them, as if even she couldn't believe their stupidity.

“We- we didn’t think-”

“Obviously! Ronald Weasley, I will be sending a letter home to your parents this evening about what you two have done-"

"But Professor, my mum will kill me-"

"That is if I don't kill you first!" McGonagall shut the red head up instantly. Ron was always a pale person, but Harry saw him turn into a ghost as he clamped his mouth shut and accepted his impending doom. After a small snort, Professor McGonagall turned to him and narrowed her eyes in disappointment. "As for you Potter-”

“Potter?” a new voice said in the small audience to their expulsion. Harry looked over to see the stranger he had spotted earlier that evening. The man wore a thick red travel cape and had the oddest golden eyes that Harry had ever seen. He briefly wondered if he used a spell to make them appear almost like molten gold. However as the man approached him, Harry realised that he was young. Harry had thought the stranger was older,  but he appeared to be about the same age that he and his friends were, if not only a couple years older. His wrinkle-less face looked unamused and rather impatient but his eyes were studying him a bit, much like everyone who had ever first met him.

“This is Harry Potter? The one that’s supposed to kill your Moldywarts fellow?” the kid asked Dumbledore instead of asking him directly. Harry was slightly relieved to not have that pressure on him but found it very odd how casually the kid spoke with the Headmaster. Everyone in the room seemed to stiffen at the man’s mockery of Voldemort’s name however the headmaster ignored his jab and just nodded his head silently in confirmation. The golden eyes returned to Harry for a moment before a light chuckle of disbelief escaped the stranger's mouth. “Well. Good luck with that!” he laughed as he spun around and headed towards the door. “Dumbledore I am going to your office. Come meet me when you are done.”

“Master Elric please don’t make a mess-”

“Of course I am going to make a mess. I am going to raid it,” the man retorted rudely as he slammed the door behind him. Harry was absolutely stunned with the man’s presence but it was short lived as his fate was yet again being discussed amongst the professors.

“Who was that?” Ron whispered to Harry.

“None of your concern Mr. Weasley!” Professor McGonagall scolded him. “The only business you should concern yourself with is the punishment you both are going to get for this foolishness!”

“We’ll go get our stuff-”

“What on earth do you mean?” she barked at the red head once more.

“We’re being expelled aren’t we?” Ron asked, not wanting to drag the punishment on for too much longer.

“I am afraid not, Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore said softly, easing their worries once and for all. “Though if you would like to leave, it could be arranged-”

“No!” Harry begged the man as he even suggested that be an option. There was no way on earth he was going to spend the rest of his lifetime as a muggle living with the Dursleys. The Headmaster chuckled lightly as he gave Harry a knowing smile.

“As I was saying before Master Elric rudely interrupted,” McGonagall huffed. “I am notifying your parents. The both of you will be serving detention for the entire first semester. And if this should happen again you will be packing your bags and _walking_ home!”

“Now, with this issue being taken care of, I think we all better be getting back to the feast. I have some notices I need to announce,” Dumbledore said cheerily with a clap of his hands.

“Albus, what about Master Elric? _He’s in your office_ ,” McGonagall hissed fearfully.

“Well. He can use this time to search my office. I don’t think he would get very far on his own.”

“But Albus-” Severus started to add but Dumbledore cut him off.

“As Mr. Lockhart pointed out earlier he is my elder, but he also doesn’t seem to run out of time. I on the other hand am pressed with my years so I think he could wait just a bit longer.”

…….

“Where is he? He’s taking too damn long!” Edward raged as he opened another drawer and dumped out all of the papers and artifacts held within. The _Lareow Rum_ hung a mess as Edward ran through it toppling over papers, tearing books off of the shelves, and opening drawers. The doorway hung a jar as he didn’t know the new headmaster’s password to enter so he had to force his way in with alchemy.  The poor gryffin statue laid in worse state.

_“Edward calm down. Stop making a mess!”_ her voice scolded him silently.

“ _You know you aren’t going to find it,”_ Mustang’s voice huffed at him.

“I know that! I just want to trash this bastards office. And if I so happen to find it along the way-”

“ _Which you aren’t-”_

“He’s my brother. I have to try-”

“ _And he’s our friend. We are telling you to rest. The wizard shouldn’t be long,”_ Winry’s soft voice stated. Edward paused in his search and closed his eyes as he listened to Winry’s guidance yet again. Her voice was gentle and had grounded him through all the years he was searching for the stone. Everytime he heard her voice it seemed to ease his worry. Yes, it shouldn’t be long. He knew Dumbledore had the stone somewhere. A few more minutes shouldn’t hurt right? “ _Relax Edward.”_

“Fine. Fine,” Edward huffed as he collapsed down in the Headmaster’s chair, not without taking a few more drawers and dumping the contents onto the floor just for the sake of it. He knew that the wizard wouldn’t hold an all powerful legendary object in a desk drawer but he took pleasure in destroying the man’s office.

_“You are 1016 years old and you still act like a rebellious teenager.”_

“Shut up, Hohenheim,” Edward huffed as he rested his head on the desk, watching the door for the expected headmaster.

_“You should try acting your age for once.”_

“If I acted my age I would be dust in a casket six feet under. Which honestly doesn’t sound that bad at this point,” Edward grumbled as he sat back and kicked his feet up on the desk. He heard an annoyed sigh from his old man and silence followed, much to his own pleasure. His foot tapped the air silently as he waited for the wizards to finish up their ceremony. He felt anxious just sitting there, waiting. Though he had all of the time in the world, quite literally, he was never a patient person.

“That’s it I can’t sit here,” Edward announced as he jolted up from the chair and started to pace around with the built up energy inside of him. He felt nervous, scared really. He feared what would happen when he did get the stone. Would he still be there? He had to be.

_“Edward calm down. Everything will be okay.”_ Winry told him.

“I know its just… I can’t just wait here. I need to make sure he’s okay,” Edward sighed. “Out of the millions of people why…. Why did Flamel have to take him?”

_“It could have been anyone. Flamel didn’t know what he was dealing with-”_

“He did! He knew! He knew just as well as anyone could and-"”

“Master Elric, I am afraid you are talking in old english again and I can’t understand you,” the calm voice of the Headmaster said as the old man walked up the makeshift set of stairs Edward had created out of alchemy and into his office. He didn’t wear the calm facade of a smile anymore since there wasn’t any students around. It was all business now. The headmaster made his way towards his desk, waving his wand at random pieces of paper as he passed. They soared harmlessly back into their appropriate places in drawers and on shelves and the room was slowly cleaned up. Dumbledore took his seat and Severus Snape who had followed him, stood across from it waiting for Edward’s input on the matter. He looked unamused at the whole ordeal.

“Where is my stone Albus?” Edward growled as he marched over towards the headmaster.

“Your stone? Why Master Elric, I must tell you that in Nicholas’s last will and testament he did in fact give the stone to me to protect and use. So infact it is now my stone.”

“You?! Will? He's dead?" Edward exclaimed in disbelief. It was only three years ago he had him cornered in Kowalski's Quality Baked Goods. Flamel escaped by apparation leaving a trail of small pastries in his wake. He still had to be out there. Even without the stone, Nicholas still was out there. If he was dead, Edward would never get the chance to kick his ass for what he has done. Seeming to sense his worry, though not fully understanding how it was directed, Dumbledore smiled reassuringly.

"No. Nicholas should still have a few months under his belt. He is living happily back in France with his wife. They had just finished up their living wills which entailed giving the stone over to me," he said calmly, though gravely mistaken in thinking that it would make him happier.

"That two timing no good son of a fucking bitch!" Edward raged as his frustration grew. "I am going to kill him-"

"And normal people would think it a relief to hear that someone isn't dead-" Severus noted sarcastically. Edward glared at him so violently that he saw the Slytherin professor stiffen slightly.

"With what Nick has done to me I don't give a damn if he dies in his bed or gets his soul sucked out by a dementor. As long as I get to kick his ass and teach him a final lesson before he goes I am fine. The stone wasn't even his to give, it is mine. Hell, you don’t even know what you are dealing with!” Edward scolded them. Dumbledore frowned slightly and nodded his head in acceptance.

“I know. I do not know what powers the stone has. But I know it is a rather powerful artifact. Many, many dangerous wizards are after it Master Elric. Which is probably why Nicholas Flamel instructed me to destroy it-”

“NO!” Edward yelled. The anger and fear mixed together in his throat as he realised what Dumbledore wanted to do with it. “Dear god, no! You can’t destroy it. You don’t understand!”

“I know I don’t understand. I know Flamel didn’t either. So would you care to enlighten me?” the headmaster hummed as he gently pried into the unknown. Edward crossed his arms and glared defiantly at the man who wasn’t even a tenth of his age. He knew Nicholas and Albus were friends. They worked together on false alchemy, built off of the teachings Edward willingly gave to Flamel before he ran off with the stone. However, he didn’t know how far Albus was going to take the information on the stone. He didn’t know the extent to which Nicholas instructed him. He didn’t trust the man and though he seemed kind hearted under his manipulative mind, Edward didn’t know if Dumbledore would stoop so low as to take a life or more just for the stones creation. He tapped his foot impatiently before letting out a huff of hot air.

“I taught Nicholas Flamel under the name of my father, Paracelsus. I know he probably mentioned me only a couple times in his flight. He taught you alchemy or a tainted form of it you wizards like to perform, so you must know the rule Equivalent Exchange,” Edward stated as if he were telling Albus his own story. The headmaster kept quiet and just nodded his head, begging him to continue. But Edward just narrowed his eyes and stood off with the man. “The stone is thought to be the one thing to bypass it all. Some consider it a get out of jail free card but it isn't. It follows the first law as much as anything else in this world. So the only thing you need to ask yourself is what is equivalent to the stone? Now give it back to me. I need to take it home.”

“I am afraid not, Master Elric,” Dumbledore sighed, upset about not receiving a straight answer. It seemed that over his years of learning alchemy he still couldn’t figure out the basis of Equivalent Exchange. Edward couldn’t believe he felt disappointment in Flamel for not teaching this man better. “I am keeping it safe until the day I find someone I can trust to give it to.”

“And you trusted Nicholas, someone who quite _literally_ stabbed me in the back just to steal it from me?” Edward asked him rhetorically as if the idea of trusting Flamel was blasphemy.

“Yes I did,” Dumbledore said with a threatening spark in his eye. “But fortunately for you I think you are both similar.”

“I am nothing like that cheating bastard!” he growled.

“Life is a hard thing, Master Elric. Some, like Nick and yourself, brave to endure more than the rest of us can bare. But," he hummed lightly, lifting his finger as if to make a point, "eventually we must all come to accept the end result; death. It might just take some people a couple hundred more years to prepare themselves for it."

“Accept death? Well he sure accepted it now!” Edward spat at him. “He left the stone behind as he ran off to die a glorious and romantic death with his lover. Couldn’t stand the ‘forever’ part of immortality! He’s an naive idiot who just takes what he wants and doesn’t deal with the consequences.”

“Yes, but surely he has come to the end conclusion,” he inquired.

“Death?” Edward hissed at him, the silence of the castle deafening the small audience before him. “I am not afraid of death. Infact, I am sure as hell ready for it once I finish what I need to do-"

"And what's that?" Severus asked gently. "What's so important that you need the stone for?" Edward chuckled cruelly at the young potion’s master as he simply didn’t understand. The greasy man looked quite offended at the insult to his intellect.

“Don’t worry, Severus, Nicholas and now seemingly Albus still didn’t figure it out. Not even after all these years,” he stated, eyeing the headmaster in disappointment. “The stone was never supposed to exist. But now that it does, it is my job to return it home. I protect it because I am the only one who is able to. Until the day I can return the stone home I will protect it unlike the wizards here who just want to use it for themselves. You might not trust me but I don’t trust you to treat them the way I have. It isn’t a weapon you can wield. It isn’t something you can just throw in a drawer and forget about. And that is all I have seen you treat it like. Now give me the stone. I will not leave here without it.” Edward finished and lifted his hand up as if Dumbledore would just succumb to his words and place the philosopher’s stone right in the palm of his hands. Unfortunately the headmaster had other ideas.

“I have no intention to keep it from you. After this conversation I will give it to you regardless of what happens. But as for leaving the castle, I am afraid I can not have you take it off Hogwart’s grounds until we ensure the full safety of this relic.”

“You act like this school is impenetrable. It's just a castle and all walls fall down eventually. How safe do you really think it is going to be here?”

“Enough for the time being,” Dumbledore sighed. Edward frowned in aggravation as he knew the wizard was trying all he could to keep the stone for the sole reason of using it as leverage against him. This argument was going nowhere and he knew that the man wouldn’t change his position no matter what he said. He was going to be on the wrong side of this debate no matter what. He could have stolen the stone and made off with it if only he knew where the it was kept. Knowing wizards, it was somewhere even someone of his power couldn’t access without a wand. They were full of tricks and even with as many years of experience as he had with them, he couldn’t see through them all.

“I am not going to jump through your hoops, Albus. This stone isn’t something you can just trade for. I know what you are trying to do and I don’t like it. Just return them to me,” Edward scolded him simply. Dumbledore frowned as Edward had known what he was trying to do. The headmaster was treating him like a kid who he could trick into making him eat their vegetables. He sighed as he leaned back on the desk tiredly.

“All it will take is one year at Hogwarts. To you this will be like seconds out of your lifespan.”

“A year is a year regardless of how long you live,” Edward growled but let the man continue otherwise.

“I would like you to teach at Hogwarts for one year. I have a small group of people I trust, most of whom are faculty at this school-”

“So you would give the stone to Lockhart over me? I didn't know the standard of competency fell over the last millennia.” Edward asked only mildly amused at the man’s notion. The man looked rather annoyed at his suggestion.

“He hasn’t served his term here at Hogwarts so he is in quite the same position as you.”

“Once you give me the stone, there is nothing stopping me from just walking out of here with it,” Edward stated flatly, getting annoyed that Albus was wasting his time on something he could so easily avoid.

“Yes, you might want to do that but I can think you would choose to stay,” the man hummed tiredly as he shuffled his way over to an old standing mirror in his office. It looked dirty and dusty, nothing important. For a second Edward thought he was just trying to be dramatic, which anyone above the age of 99 likes to be, but then he saw Dumbledore simply slip his hand through the glass of the mirror like it was water and protrude with the red glowing philosophers stone resting in his palm. Before anyone had any sense to stop him, Edward clapped his hands and slapped them to the ground. The stone floor rose quickly up and slapped the headmaster’s hand, sending the stone flying through the air. Edward snatched it out of its flight with his hand and craddled it to his chest as if he was afraid that the wizards would take it once more. Dumbledore stood there with a grandfatherly look on his face, rubbing his sore hand as Severus pulled his wand out to face him. Edward just turned his back on the foolish wizard and looked down at the stone.

He felt the presence of the 10,000 souls now more than ever as it sat right before them. He could name all of the people who laid within it. He knew their names, their families, and their desperation to get back home. However he also knew that a few of them were gone with the years of use Flamel had put them through. Fear rose in his throat as he turned the stone in his hand.

“Please be there, please be there, please be there,” Edward begged himself and all of the forces of the world as the stone started to light up in his hand. It ignited in life’s flame and he gently pressed it to his chest where it melted into his skin and joined the other part of itself. He felt an overwhelming feeling of joy from the millions of souls inside of him as they rejoiced the return of their friends and their families but the fear inside him just grew ten fold. With that many added at once they were all disoriented. He couldn’t find the one person he was looking for.

“Winry do you see him?” Edward asked desperately, ignoring the stares of the wizards behind him as he talked to himself. Edward had learned chi from Lin Yao in his long years however it unfortunately was a near useless power when dealing with the massive presence of life within him. He couldn’t even feel the presence of his own brother.

_“We are looking, Edward, but I don’t see him anywhere,”_ Winry replied, her own fear noticeable in her voice. In response, Edward quickly clapped his hands and touched the floor again, this time a perfectly forged suit of armor. It was a familiar face, identical to the one he knew in his childhood but now it stood empty. Edward feared it always would.

The glowing red array started to etch its way through the air as Edward begged that he could fill that armor with life. He summoned with all his might the soul he had been missing for 642 years. At first, no soul fire appeared in his palm. He knew it would have been difficult to find one in the million but he still tried to call it forth. He needed to know. Suddenly a low spark spat out of his finger tips and ignited into the brightest red fire he had ever seen. It danced across his fingers with such ferocity that he knew it had to be him. In desperation Edward casted the fire through the array and it was sealed to the armor figure before him. It shook and rattled as the lifeless form got use to its consciousness and after the raging fire died out, the office stood still in silence. Edward raced over to the suit of armor and grabbed it by the shoulder plates, looking into the helmet’s eyes which now glowed dimly red.

“Al? Are you there? Alphonse!?” Edward asked the empty suit desperate for an answer. Suddenly the suit shook and its back straightened out, eyes brightening.

“B-brother?” the armor asked as if he wasn’t sure it was really him but after a second of assessment he snapped together. “Brother! You’re here!” Alphonse’s voice exclaimed as the armor scooped Edward up in is bone crushing metallic hug. Though Edward would usually whine about being suffocated, at this point he didn’t care. He embraced his little brother as if he hadn’t done it his entire life.

“Alphonse, I am sorry. It has been too long. I was scared that he-”

“It’s alright, I am here. I wouldn’t leave you,” his little brother whispered softly as he let Edward go and set him back on the floor. Edward tugged on his cape to straighten it out and caught his breath which was nearly squeezed out of him. Alphonse started to pat himself down as he wasn't used to having a physical body again. He seemed shocked that he was even standing at all. Over 600 years they had been apart and Alphonse was trapped in the stone. Now he was free. Edward punched him playfully, relief flooding through him like wild fire. He felt the fear that he held over the years melt away seeing his brother standing there with him, even if he was just a suit of armor.

However, the wizards didn't share their joy or relief. They stood rather baffled in the corner of the room, as they watched a new conscious form talk excitedly in a foreign tongue. By the time there was a break in their reunion, the wizards thought it was ample time to start asking what had happened.

“Who is this?” Dumbledore asked calmly as he stepped forward from where he waited patiently by the mirror. Though his face looked happy with the new company in the room, his eyes screamed of fear and confusion. Magic could make objects move but only powerful magic could give them actual life and consciousness. Albus really didn’t know what he was playing with when he held the stone. Edward glared at the man as he turned around to face him full on, his anger growing ten fold.

“Did you figure it out yet? What the stone really is? Or are you still confused because I could sort that out for you right now,” Edward growled as he rolled up his black sleeves and started towards the man. Severus jumped between them, defensively holding up his wand as if it would have any effect in slowing him down but before any fight could break out, Alphonse stuck his arm out and stopped his brother.

“Um… sir, I am his little brother, Alphonse Elric. I am sorry if he has been a bit… tense-”

“Al!” Edward retorted defensively. "They had you locked in a mirror like an old antique!" But he was unheard by the rest of the rooms occupants as they just stared at each other. Edward saw the Severus didn’t put his wand away and he rolled his eyes as he slapped the wand out of his face with his bare hand.

“Put that away. It isn’t like it could do anything useful anyways,” Edward huffed under his breath. The potions master was rather offended but took Edward’s advice and returned his wand to his robes.

“How-” Dumbledore started to ask, wanting answers the questions he had but Edward gave him a stern look.

“Alchemy," he said flatly. It seemed wizards liked to give vague explanation of wandwork by just summing it up as magic so that was all Edward was going to give them about his science. He turned away and started towards the door which still hung ajar from his transmutation of it. “Come on Alphonse, let’s go. We need to find Flamel before he passes so I can give him a piece of my mind. I know Mustang would like a piece of  him too for what he has done.”

“The Colonel, Brother?” Alphonse asked. Edward nearly stopped in his tracks as he realised Alphonse didn’t know what had happened to the rest of them that night which Flamel took him. He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. A lot has happened to them both and it has just been too long.

“Alphonse… I’ll… I think it is about time we caught up on a few things. I'll tell you later,” he mumbled to his younger sibling. The armor looked a little worried for him, afraid of what might have happened, but nodded his head and agreed for a later date. Now wasn’t the time.

As they reached the door, Edward heard the annoying and persistent voice of the headmaster call to him.

“Master Elric, what about the teaching position?” he asked calmly.

“Find some other idiot like Lockhart to fill it. We apparently are on the same level of competency so he should do fine,” Edward snapped without even stopping to turn around. He wanted to get out of there. They had waited too long. He stormed out the door and quickly replaced the entrance to the office back to its original form. He doubted he would be going back in there for a very long time. As he and his brother wandered through the halls of the huge castle towards the large entrance doors, Alphonse questioned him.

“What was that teaching position the headmaster was talking about?” his voice rang out.

“Bah,” Edward brushed off, still angered about the man’s deceit. “He tried to barter you. He wanted me to work in the castle just to get all of you back.”

“And you’re not doing it? Brother you never break a promise-”

“I didn’t promise him shit. Trying to barter people's lives…. I could never imagine doing that."

"But brother, maybe he didn't know. He didn't understand-"

"Well he should have! It's very obvious what the stone is made of. Any person who wants to call themselves an alchemist should know equivalent exchange and he obviously doesn't!" Edward argued. However, he couldn't stay angry, it was over with and pointless to drag it on. He sighed as he stuffed his hands in his pockets as they strode down through the entrance hall.

"Besides he gave you back regardless. So it was more of a suggestion than an agreemen- oof!” he staggered back as his body felt like it ran into a brick wall. They were right at the door, about to leave the castle for good but for some reason his body wouldn’t move. He tried to take a step forward but it was as if there was an invisible barrier blocking his path.

“What is going on?” Alphonse asked as he tried to stick his armored hand out of the doorway but came upon the same obstacle. “Magic,” he muttered to himself as he touched the invisible force, trying to figure out what was causing it.

“ALBUS!” Edward raged as he spun around to see that the headmaster and his fellow teacher had followed them out to the door. The old man held a slim smile under his beard as if he had them caught. For all Edward knew, he had. “What did you do?” There was a slight gasp from Alphonse as if he remembered something.

“ _Brother!”_ he hissed as it seemed the younger sibling was now, too, getting angry. “ _Detinentum!”_

“What?”

“I was in the castle for a long time. _I remember!_ The headmaster was worried about someone coming to get us last year. He hid us in that mirror and casted the detainment spell on the stone so that someone couldn’t steal it and remove us from the grounds! We’re stuck here,” Alphonse told him.

“You and the others?” Edward asked just to get a nod from his brother. The stone was bound within the walls of the castle by a simple spell the headmaster casted the previous year. With the souls returned within him, Edward was stuck there with them. Albus was right, he wasn’t going to leave the grounds with the stone, not until he was released.

“You bastard. Why did you cast that spell on them? Why did you keep them locked away?” Edward roared as he turned on the headmaster, absolutely furious. “Weren’t you the one who said the castle was ‘safe enough’? Who was after it that got you so scared for its safety?”

“Voldemort,” the headmaster replied, unfazed by his outburst. “A simple spell like that can be broken by even the first years. It was more to slow down the thief if anything were to happen. Luckily Voldemort was never able to get the stone out of the Mirror of Erised.”

“You mean he got _into your castle_?” Edward growled in disbelief. He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and looked up to see his brother looking down at him patiently. The look in his eyes told him to calm down before he upset someone. At that moment, Edward wasn’t thinking of upsetting other people, rather how the others had upset him. He hated the wizarding world, and now he was forcefully stuck in it.

“Give me the counterspell,” Edward ordered the bearded man who just stood there smugly, denying his request.

“Why, Master Elric, you attended Hogwarts when it first began. You are a wizard. Shouldn’t you be able to figure it out by yourself?” Albus hummed, playing the same card that he previously did in the office.

“I am not a wizard. I want nothing to deal with you crazy weirdos and your magic. The spell is _Vacatio_ but I don’t have my wand anymore!” he hissed at the man. “Why don’t you just chain us up in the dungeon if you want us to stay here, huh?”

“If you want to that could be arranged,” the potions master said slyly, making Alphonse take a couple steps back from the man.

“Relax, alchemists,” the headmaster said calmly. “I will give you the counterspell after final exams. That gives you just enough time to teach alchemy this coming year.”

“I will do no such thing,” Edward barked. “I don’t trust anyone in this world with alchemy, especially not you wizards. That is why I let it die off. The wizarding world isn’t ready for alchemy. Nicholas proved it in the 14th century, and you are proving it now. I will not teach it.”

“As I remember someone saying to me before, ‘A world without alchemy is a world without order.’, Master Elric,” Dumbledore quoted from someone Edward highly suspected was Flamel.

“A world without alchemy would be the same as it always was. We are all human. It doesn’t matter what power we can wield. Laws of the universe still exist except you wizards like to deny all of them.”

“Then teach us to obey the laws, Master Elric. You will be teaching the students who will shape the wizarding world in the future. If they had knowledge of these laws, maybe the chaos we live in will be less so,” Dumbledore sighed.

"No, you will just have more odd power to do more whacked up shit! It will be even worse!" Edward exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in disbelief. But something caught him off guard, a thought that lingered in the back of his mind. Edward relaxed and narrowed his eyes as he studied the headmaster who stood a little too smuggly. For as much pomp and circumstance the man was throwing out, there was an underlying desperation around him. Edward knew exactly now what the man wanted him to do.

“This isn’t about me teaching at all. This is about that stupid war and the prophecy. You want me in on it-”

“I want you to teach here at Hogwarts and protect the students,” Albus confirmed simply. Edward let out a cruel chuckle which then turned into an outrageous fit of laughter. Everyone grew silent as he let himself wrap around the hilarity of the moment. It was not funny at all.

“You lured me all the way here for the stone, tried to barter human lives, and trapped me here just so I would have to participate in this war you all are brewing in your little cauldrons? I have seen enough pathetic prophecies pass in my lifetime. I have seen enough wars to know how they all end. That Potter kid doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Which is why I want you to help him.”

“You don’t even trust in his own abilities!” Edward retorted promptly.

“Harry Potter is still young. He still needs schooling. If he were older, I would have to disagree. But until he comes of age, I am afraid that he can only go so far on luck,” the man sighed.

“Harry Potter?” Alphonse asked quietly. Edward and the two professors nodded their heads to the quiet suit of armor. “He saved us last year!” he exclaimed. Edward stared dumbfounded at his little brother, feeling a little betrayed by his innocent statement of events. Dumbledore smiled, glad that at least he and Alphonse seemed to see eye to eye for a short moment.

“Yes he did. Along with his friends, he managed to find the Sorcerer’s stone and stop Voldemort from laying his hands on it.”

“So now you are saying that the castle isn’t even safe enough to stop a couple of first years!” Edward said hysterically.

“Brother,” Alphonse said in his knowing tone. Edward glared at his little brother knowing what he was going to say.

“No, Alphonse. Getting us involved in their games will only lead to more death and ruin than there needs to be. Voldemort came after the stone already. With me being so close to this boy, he is bound to try and get it again. I will not meddle in their world’s affairs!”

“But Harry saved us. The least we can do is teach him some alchemy. It might help!” Alphonse begged him. Edward felt a sudden swirl of agreement in him as the other souls inside of him liked Alphonse’s kindness. Cheering and voices rang up inside of him all at once, prodding him to accept the offer. It was deafening listening to that many people at once. It was roaring madness. Edward groaned as he clasped his hands over his ears as if that would block out the noise, but it wouldn’t. It came from within him.

“SHUT UP!” he shouted and all of a sudden the torment of noise was silenced, leaving only hushed whispers in his wake. He already told all of them not to try and talk to him all at once, but the millions and millions of souls were sometimes forgetful over the years. A roaring headache soared through his head and bounced off of the sides of his skull. He moaned as he tried to massage it out, ignoring the confused looks on the wizards’ faces.

_“Come on Edward. It is only a year. We can find a way to return home after,”_ Winry’s whispered. Her voice was so soft it felt like it soothed his headache even for a few seconds. He groaned as he knew that she was right.

“Majority rules I guess?” he mumbled and suddenly a loud roaring cheer drover through him, sending his mind reeling with the noise. “Ack! Shut up already! I get it!” he whined. Though he couldn’t follow all of the conversation, Alphonse was looking excited as if he already knew what the outcome was going to be. Edward sighed tiredly as he massaged his head.

“Fine. Whatever. I will teach your fucking class,” he mumbled as he started to stagger past the wizards through the castle. Dumbledore seemed ecstatic on his agreement.

“Very well, Master Elric. You start tomorrow. Your chambers have already been prepared in the Gunhilda Corridor-”

“Let’s get this over with,” Edward groaned.

 


	2. The Lesson

**_Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage_ **

The Lesson

 

Edward groaned as he marched down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He had spent the entire evening in the headmaster’s office, discussing his arrangements. It seemed like Dumbledore had everything thought out already as if he was expecting him to be so easy to trick. The rest of the evening Edward spent testing all of the other possible exits to the castle in hopes that they would let him through. Unfortunately, he was still trapped there against his will now with Alphonse and Winry yelling at him about trying to escape his promise of teaching.

With him being so tired, Alphonse had to return to the stone the previous evening because he just didn’t have enough energy to keep him in the armor for much longer. Winry scolded him for not resting up and he knew that it came to bite him in the end. He guessed that until he returned to his full health again with a better night's rest and some food, no one else would have the luxury to roam around the castle by themselves.

“ _It’s a shame,”_ Winry huffed. “ _I could tell you need automail maintenance.”_

“I need a lot of things,” he grumbled as he staggered into the Entrance Hall, imagining that one of those things was a cup of coffee. He spotted the large doors of the castle and for a brief moment he wanted to test his limits again. Maybe the spell wore off, maybe it was just a trick that Dumbledore was playing on him and his brother. He saw a large and rather hairy faculty member stride right through the doorway, holding a rather beaten cabbage in his hands. Though most people would have found the half giant rather eccentric, Edward had seen stranger things in his lifetime. Ignoring all common sense that told him he was being too hopeful, Edward inched his way over towards the door. He examined the hinges of the large barricades, the frame, and even the floor but none of it looked peculiar. He knew magic rarely left traces of its existence but he couldn’t help but dream. Just as he was about to reach a hand out to test his boundaries, he heard a light tsk behind him.

“You already know you can’t leave, why try?” he heard a cool voice behind him. Edward spun around to see the Potions Master staring at him, his face showing slight disappointment as if he thought he was smarter than that. Edward felt himself heat up as he saw the professor’s face again. He hated that man’s bluntness. It was too much like his own.

“Why do I have to be trapped _in_ the castle? Why can’t I go outside?” Edward hissed under his breath as he stormed up to the man who was a good foot taller than he. Severus shrugged innocently.

“The detainment spell only works efficiently well inside a foundation of some sort. Outside it would be all relative to approximate boundaries. Too much guesswork,” he simply stated.

“All magic is is guesswork,” Edward grumbled.

“Not potions.”

“Yes, well, that I can get behind,” he admitted. When he attended Hogwarts in its founding years, potions was by far his favorite class. It was coordinate, exact, and resembled alchemy in its equations and precision. The two could even have collaboration when it came to spagyrics. There was nothing about the wizarding world that he understood better than potions. With an attempted smile from Severus, it seemed that the two of them came to a mutual agreement when it came to fields of study. However, as for the trickery and manipulation that resulted in Edward’s entrapment, they both couldn’t hate each other more.

Severus left towards the Great Hall as he had a stack of schedules to hand out to his house. Edward reluctantly followed the man as he gave up on the door for the time being and decided that it would do him well to get breakfast. After all, it seemed like forever since he ate. Entering the Great Hall, he looked up tiredly to see that all of the students were seated at their appropriate tables just like the previous evening. The heads of the houses were running around with course schedules to give the students for their first day of class. Whispers started to rise up as some of the students caught sight of him. Wide eyes stared at him, some scared, some curious, as he walked down the aisle towards the High table.

“Master Elric-”

“It’s not-,” Edward started but turned around to see a rather short and jolly man staring up at him. He held a stack of papers in his hands and he suddenly realised it must have been one of the heads. Edward sighed under his breath and massaged his brow, upset to have nearly burst out. Hohenheim was already reprimanding him for his attitude as they spoke. “Its… Edward… please call me Edward. None of this Master stuff. I only make Albus do it because it obviously annoys him.”

“Uh… Edward,” the man tested the word out nervously. It seemed that even the professors were intimidated by him. If not because of his display the previous evening, they were probably frightened by the fact that he was one of the legendary beings they read about as children. Nicholas Flamel stole a lot of things from him in his life but he managed to give him a title in the wizarding world; Paracelsus the Eastern Sage. He ‘invented’ alchemy and was practically a god from what Edward had read off of a famous Witch and Wizarding card he found once, however the picture was a horrible lie. Other than the known fact that he had a metal arm, gold hair and a red cloak, no one knew what he looked like. They made him look like an old rust bucket rather than a teenager. However it looked like Dumbledore decided to inform the staff who he was but Edward doubted that he told them why he was there.

Filius, after playing the simple name around in his mind a few times, worked up the nerve to continue what he had to say.

“Edward, I am Filius Flitwick, head of Ravenclaw. I looked back in the records and I found that you belonged to the Ravenclaw house when you were enrolled here. I have made up your teaching schedule and arrangements as instructed by the headmaster. You are only teaching three years so you have a pretty open schedule-”

“Perfect,” Edward said as he snatched the paper from the professor and looked it over. It seemed that he was only teaching the first three years. That was pretty easy schedule to manage. Only  few classes per day. Edward was wondering what he would do with all of his free time when he realised that the short little professor was still talking, instructing him on what he was to do.

“-Yes, and your classroom is in the Dark Arts tower, right near Gilderoy’s-”

“Good god, why do I have to be next to that idiot?” he mumbled. Flitwick looked a little taken back but didn’t retort to his rude comment.

“Well, Edward, it is because Dumbledore instructed you to be his assistant-”

“WHAT?” Edward exclaimed as he turned around to the high table to see Dumbledore smiling cheekily at him as if he knew what they were talking about. They had argued all evening about what his job in Hogwarts would be. Edward had agreed to teach the years that would be most influential on the laws of Alchemy; the first three. Nowhere had he agreed to do anything more than that, especially not in the proximity of Lockhart. One day he was going to kill that wizard. .

“Now, I know you are upset but you two share the same house. Two men of intellect should get along fine-”  Flitwick started to continue but was interrupted by a loud jolly voice.

“Edward! If it isn’t my young helper here to start the day!” the booming and charming voice of Gilderoy Lockhart said. Edward groaned to himself as he turned around to spot the sparkling man stride his way over towards them, his robes billowing in the wind. It was as if everything was a stage to him, and he was always the main act. “I know it might seem difficult with how fast pace these classes might be but don’t worry! In no time you will get the hang of things and maybe even lead the class!”

“With you there I suspect someone would have to instruct the students while you are gloating about your teeth,” Edward mumbled under his breath just as Gilderoy wrapped his arm around his shoulder to drag him to the High Table. He couldn’t help but notice the look of awe that had fixed itself upon Flitwick’s face as the man passed.

“Yes I know it might be difficult to grab subjects out of your field but we can’t all be experts on everything! Why just this morning I was helping Pomona Sprout with her- Ah there she is!” Gilderoy announced cheerily. Edward looked over as a short stout woman waddle up to the High Table, her hands all in bandages. They looked to have pained her as she carried a stack of schedules for Hufflepuff house. However, through the pain, she was able to keep a tight glare on Gilderoy. It seemed that hating the man was at least one thing they had in common. “Yes, well just this morning I was helping Pomona with the Whomping Willow. There are specific techniques you must use when doctoring an ancient tree like that and I was just giving her a few pointers. It is advise like this you need to be able to catch, Edward, when in my class!”

“Advise? It looks like you nearly crushed her!” Edward exclaimed, suddenly aware of how horribly wrong Lockhart’s stupidity could be. He might end up killing someone with his arrogance. No wonder he was the man’s asistant, the class might just die if Gilderoy was left to his own devices. However, as if it came at just the right time, Gilderoy’s copy of the newspaper came in by owl and he left to take care of it. Edward could see the man’s face plastered all over the front cover along with the prophecy kid. Seeing that Lockhart gave him the slip, Edward sighed as he turned back to the herbology teacher who was holding her bandaged hands delicately as if she was afraid to hurt them any more.

“Here,” he said softly. Pomona looked a little hesitant to let him near her. Edward knew that after his entrance the other evening he wasn’t the most approachable person but with a caring look, Pomona finally relented. He clapped his hands together and took the professor’s gently, careful not to upset them more than they were. There was a satisfying crackle of energy and a little yelp of surprise escaped the woman. “There. Your hands should be healed. However I would stay away from Lockhart on medical advise… or for anything really.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice about that, young man,” the witch said as if she meant for it to have more power, more snipe, but it came out weak and surprised as she carefully looked at her hands and flexed them lightly. Seeming to deem them suitable for work, she picked up her stack of schedules and went over towards the Hufflepuff table to pass them out after another quick word of gratitude. Edward’s smile slowly faded as he turned back towards the high table. All of the professors except for the heads of the houses were seated around it having quiet chatter amongst themselves. Edward saw a few of them glance his way as he approached the table and they suddenly went silent. He lifted his hand as if to wave hello but stopped as he felt great absence in their invitation to sit with them. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and quickly piled a plate with food and a goblet with pumpkin juice to take with him to his classroom instead. He picked them up and quickly sped away from the table to get out from underneath the curious looks of the other faculty members. Their chatter quickly picked up the instant he turned his back. Unfortunately his presence with the students was much the same as they all stared at him, a wave of silence following him. It just made him walk out of there faster.

“ _Brother. You should sit with them-”_

“Not today…,” Edward said awkwardly as he rounded out of the Great Hall and quickly dodged out of sight of the people within.

………..

“That’s him! That’s the man who interrupted the sorting!” Hermione whispered as she pointed to the golden haired stranger standing at the High Table with Lockhart. Harry and Ron looked over their shoulders and nodded their heads in surprise.

“That’s the jerk who saw us nearly get expelled!” Ron bit. Hermione glared at him, warning him to watch his language but he just crossed his arms defiantly. “Hey! I am just saying he talked about You Know Who like he is a joke and laughed at Harry because he’s the ‘Boy Who Lived’.”

“I am not the ‘Boy Who Lived’. I am _a_ boy who lived and still is living,” Harry retorted but Ron shrugged him off.

“I am just saying that he’s a stuck up jerk. He storms in here demanding the stone right in public of everyone and then he mocks Harry. He’s almost as bad as Malfoy.”

“He can’t be evil just because he laughed at me,” Harry told him.

“How about the stone then? Hermione said he was screaming bloody mary for it last night! You know who else wanted the stone?”

“Voldemort,” Harry replied plainly. They all already knew the answer. All three of them had faced the terror Voldemort unleashed at Hogwarts the previous year. Ron had gotten terribly injured because of it. It was because of the Philosopher’s Stone that Voldemort even stepped foot into the castle. If the new stanger was after it though, it was already too late.

“Dumbledore destroyed the stone, remember?” Hermione reminded Ron but then turned to Harry, wanting to drive the mystery of the new man to new grounds. “But..he did threaten Dumbledore more than once, Harry,” Hermione added. “It was actually quite scary. For someone barely older than us… to have such power over the headmaster-”

“Needs to be taught a lesson I think,” Ron muttered into his Pumpkin Juice. Hermione slapped him over the shoulder.

“Says the guy who decided to fly a _car_ to Hogwarts!” she scolded them for the hundredth time since they got back to the dormitories the other night.

“We are being taught a lesson!” Ron retorted.

“An entire semester of detention,” Harry numbly added, still upset over their predicament. Hermione looked almost satisfied with their punishment as if it was the perfect point to say I told you so, even though she didn’t know anything about the car until the event had happened. Ron rolled his eyes at their bookworm of a friend and crossed his arms on the table to rest his chin on it.

“I still don’t like this new guy,” he muttered.

“Well, this new guy is going to be your new teacher so I wouldn’t talk so badly about him, Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall suddenly said from behind the three of them. She held a stack of papers in her hand, their schedules. “But I do have to say that a lesson might be good for him,” she continued as if agreeing with Ron’s ignorant comment was normal. They all stared up at her wide eyed as she seperately handed them their schedules in turn. Hermione eagerly looked hers over as she had organised all of her classes already in her own binder. She just wanted to double check their accuracy. But suddenly she frowned as she caught sight of a class that she didn’t even remember seeing in the course catalog let alone remember scheduling for.

“Professor, I think there is something wrong with my schedule,” she said, stopping the head of Gryffindor from continuing her rounds. However, Professor McGonagall didn’t even have to look to know what the problem was.

“It was last minute, Ms. Granger. All first through third years were signed up for Alchemy this year-”

“What in the world is that?” Ron asked. McGonagall raised her eyebrow at the red head as he seemed to forget that he was talking to a professor. She pushed the bridge of her glasses back up on her nose and resituated the pile of papers in her hands.

“It is an ancient and lost form of magic. It’s supposed to be very powerful but to be honest with you Mr. Weasley, I haven’t got the slightest clue as to what it is about,” she said leaving the conversation at that as she went to the other tables to pass out the rest of the class schedules. Ron watched her leave and then the instant she was out of earshot he leaned towards the two of them and whispered harshly, “She’s like a hawk!” Hermione rolled her eyes and picked up her schedule again.

“Alchemy by Professor Edward Elric,” she mumbled as she read it over. “I wonder what that’s about.”

“Wait are you telling me even _you_ don’t know?” Ron asked as if it was blasphemy.

“We heard of it before remember? Alchemy and Nicholas Flamel? That’s what created the Philosopher’s stone!”

“But like I said before, what _is_ it? It can't be just for making powerful rocks,” Ron asked her. Suddenly Harry tapped the both of them on the shoulder and pointed back up to the High Table.

“I suppose it might be that.” Hermione and Ron turned to see the new alchemy professor holding Professor Sprouts horribly bandaged hands. An electric sizzle shot through the air as red light ignited in the palm of the man’s hand. When the blinding light calmed down, the herbology teacher quickly unraveled the bandages to find her hands completely healed. It was all done without the use of a wand. The three gryffindors looked at each other all terrified of what they had gotten themselves into this year of Hogwarts.

…………

Edward groaned as he slumped across his desk and watched the students roll into his classroom, a full stomach but with one more headache. He had just had a battle with the house elves, one which came into retreive his meal plates. They had counted in the kitchen that one set was missing and they desperately wanted to clean it. Edward told the elf that he was going to take it to the kitchens when he was done but the elf was hungry for work. In the end Edward shoveled his meal into his mouth as the house elf was walking out the door with his plate, thinking that he was done. Now, Edward didn’t need to eat. He went a very long time on his journey to find his brother without food and it didn’t seem to have an impact on his lifespan. However, he enjoyed eating food as it got rid of that gnawing pain in his stomach and gave him energy for the day. After all without energy he couldn’t attach any of the stone’s souls to a physical body, even for a short amount of time. It just took too much out of him. But breakfast wasn’t as enjoyable as he remembered it to be back in Amestris and so he had to suffer throughout his day with the best Hogwarts had to offer; impatient house elves and watered down pumpkin juice. What he wouldn’t do for a small sip of fire whiskey.

“ _Edward you can’t get drunk. It is physically impossible,”_ Roy reminded him of his many attempts to drown himself when he had first come to Europe. He had spent hours in bars and getting kicked out of them just to find it had no effect whatsoever aside from the fact that it burned his throat and left a good bitter taste in his mouth that mixed quite well with his sorrows.

“I might have to just find a way if I am going to be spending my entire time in Lockhart’s class,” Edward growled under his breath.

 _“I wouldn’t blame you if you tried,”_ Roy’s voice mumbled right before the man got a scolding from Alphonse on encouraging his drinking habits. Edward rolled his eyes as he stood up and closed the door behind the last student. If people were late it sucks to be them. He had no time to waste on a couple late students. He had a single important lesson to teach.

It looked up at what appeared to be his second year class. It was the third period of the day and they had all seemed worn down even though it was just their first day. Edward thought they were faring far better than he was.

Harry was sitting in the third row of the class with his red headed friend Edward remembered from the other evening. They seemed like normal kids aside from the fact that the Potter boy was apparently a prophecy. However, that was just his fault. No prophecy Edward had ever known was normal. They were all heroes blessed by spells or the gods even though the wars never ended well in their favor. Harry didn't have a fighting chance. He was just ordinary.

As Edward looked around the class at his new group of students he caught a Gryffindor girl with brown bushy hair reading a rather large textbook near the Potter kid. She seemed associated with them and he assumed that they were friends. However he could tell she was a bookworm and probably should have been in Ravenclaw by the way she liked to read. It was obvious that she wanted to get a head start on the class because she was reading the only book in the library known for its alchemical content   _úðwitlic ærendgewrit_ or the girls version _The Fundamental Study_. And of course out of everyone it could have been written by it had to be Nicholas Flamel.

 _“Stay calm it is just a book,_ ” Hohenheim reminded him.

"That bastard is fucking up my work and publishing it!" Edward hissed back under his breath as he strode over to where the girl was comfortably seated next to the Potter boy and snatched the book out of her hands. She looked like she wanted to argue as she was surprised with the disappearance of her book but bit her tongue as she caught sight of exactly who took it. Frightened, or at least very intimidated by him, she kept quiet as Edward looked over the book that she was reading. It was very thorough but very wrong. Nicholas always liked to try and mix the two arts of magic and alchemy against Edward’s scoldings. Managed to blow his house up more than once.

He glanced down at the girl for a few seconds to see her glowering at him for stealing her book. He smirked lightly as he snapped it shut, making a light pop as the pages collided together. When Edward went to school he would often read in class while the teacher was lecturing. He remembered when Professor Gryffindor used to steal his books him to prevent him from reading during his class. He didn't doubt that he wore the same expression the girl did when he had his words ripped right out from under his nose.

"It makes me think that you should be in Ravenclaw with how much you read," Edward mused as he studied the cover of the worn book. It was a newer print, translated into modern english for the young readers. "Professor Ravenclaw would be very happy with you." The girl smiled a little bit, seeming to ignore the fact that her book was taken. It seemed that she didn't get compliments a lot at all. Most bookworms didn't.

"However," Edward sighed as he tucked the book underneath his arm securely, "for your choice in reading, less so. If you don't mind I am going to return this to the library for you." Her smile dropped instantly.

“But Professor we don’t have textbooks  I was just-”

“I know you don’t have textbooks and you never will. Definitely not this one because everything in this book is absolute rubbish,” Edward told her. “Nicholas Flamel, may heaven curse his name, is possibly the worse alchemist in the entire world. In fact, he isn't even an alchemist at all by my standard. Any book ever published on the subject of alchemy, if it wasn't published by me, is a bunch of bullshit. Considering I have never written a book in my life, I suggest you never pick up a book for this class." Where most students would be thrilled in hearing that they don't have to haul a nasty book to class and read, the girl closed her mouth as she looked rather taken back. Edward knew that he sounded narcissistic however it was nonetheless true. Not one wizard who thought himself an alchemist ever truly knew alchemy. Now that the class seemed half awake, Edward made his way to the front of the room and dropped the library book on the desk carelessly that it made a loud noise effectively waking up a rather tired looking Hufflepuff.

“Alright, attendance," he said as he picked up the list Professor Flitwick graciously gave him. He scanned down the list of names and looked at the crowd of students with random faces. There were a lot of them and a lot of names on the list. He growled to himself as he tossed his paper behind him not caring where it went.

"If you aren't here raise your hand," he said, noticing all of the students glancing around rather confused. Seeing that no one raised their hands he smirked and clapped his hands joyously. "Great you are all here. I guess you assumed that I am your alchemy professor. But to think that I am going to teach you anything would be a completely wrong assumption. Alchemy is complicated and not or anyone, especially not for the likes of you witches and wizards. The only reason why I am here is because your bastard Headmaster was very... persuasive,” he said hesitantly as a dive into his personal matters would have just been pointless let alone reckless. The students, especially the prophecy child and his friends, all looked offended from his comment of their headmaster.

“ _Take it slow,”_ Hohenheim warned but Edward just rolled his eyes in disregardance to his father's advice.

“Alchemy was made a lost art because no one here could understand it and had great disregardance for its laws, so I have no intention of bringing a lost art back for a bunch of snot brained twelve year olds-”

“You are barely older than us!” a slytherin boy shouted out of turn. Where most Professors would scold them for not raising their hands, Edward didn't give a damn. He wasn't most Professors and it seemed the students were slowly coming to realised that.

“Appearances betray me,” Edward growled quickly back at him. The kid seemed upset with the bland answer but sat down just as another hand raised in the air. Edward pointed to it just to find that it was the young girl that he had stolen the book from not a few moments ago.

“Professor, what do you mean it was 'made a lost art'?” the young gryffindor girl asked. Edward frowned.

“Name?”

“Hermione Granger,” she told him simply.

“Just to tell you a little fact I found out on my long time here, things don't become lost just randomly. People make them lost for the hope of keeping them that way.”

“Then if you aren’t going to teach us alchemy what _are_ you going to teach us?!” Granger exclaimed, thoroughly upset that she wasn't going to be getting a lesson on a new skill. Edward was amazed at how enthused she was for the class even though it was to the point of slightly annoying.

“I am not going to teach you shit,” he stated flatly to the surprise of his class. “You are just going to have to learn yourselves. A lesson without pain is one not learned and if I just sit here and lecture to you what you should know how on earth is that helping any of you?”

“But how are we supposed to teach ourselves something we don't know?” the Harry kid asked simply. Which was a very good question because Edward knew that they didn't know anything about real alchemy in the least bit. No one in that world did.

“You are going to teach yourselves to understand the three laws of alchemy, which I will give you in a little bit. It's the key to everything in life not just this science. If you show me you understand them then maybe I might consider teaching this stupid class,” Edward mumbled the last part. The students glanced at each other curiously as though considering his barter. It probably wasn't like any of their other classes and they didn't seem to know how to take it. He was kind of pulling a page from his own teacher’s book. It was really the only way he knew how to teach. He didn’t want to waste his time on a class that couldn’t get past the basics. Alchemy was dangerous as it was let alone to some kids who couldn’t understand it. However it seemed that the students were lost in his methods and were looking at each other not knowing what to do. Edward sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose in aggravation.

“Any questions,” he growled and immediately all hands in the room shot up. Reluctantly Edward pointed to the red head next to Potter.

“What _is_ alchemy? We know it is a lost magic but what does it do?” he asked dumbly.

“When did I ever say it was magic?” Edward asked rhetorically. “Alchemy isn't magic. It doesn't require bloodline or wands-”

“Wandless magic?’ a blond Slytherin kid exclaimed excitedly but Edward glared at him for interrupting and he seemed to immediately shut up.

“It _isn't_ magic. A squib, a muggle, anyone else can perform alchemy. This is a _science._ It is the art of transmutating one thing into another-”

“But we can already do that with transfigurations-” the slytherin boy argued again. "Why do we need to learn some muggle ' _science'_ for something we can already do?"

“Name,” Edward snapped quickly before he actually got a good look at him. The kid was slender with bright blond hair, something all too familiar about him from the previous evening in Hogsmeade.

“Draco Malfoy,” the kid stated as if anyone should know it. He held an arrogance that anyone could see through. It was almost like the homunculus Pride, a hopeful false identity. Obviously he couldn’t take a bit of humility. “I’ll have you know that my father expects us to be learning _magic_ not some muggle rubbish-”

“You’re father made his position quite clear last night as did I to him,” Edward stated coldly. “I hope his wand arm is feeling much better just incase I have to state my position again.” The Slytherin kid paled immensely which was a hard feat since he was already so white to begin with. The other students around the room were thoroughly confused but it seemed that Draco knew what had happened to his father, or at least knew that he had broken his arm if not the context of its occurrence.

“And to everyone,” Edward said turning to the whole class, “if you are going to keep stating things while I am trying to explain them you are going to be in for a very long and very bad year. So shut up and listen or else you will find yourself failing the semester before it began,” Edward scolded.

“As I was stating, it isn’t magic but you would be incorrect to state that it is a muggle science,” Edward lectured giving the Slytherin boy another glare while he was at it. “Muggles didn’t invent alchemy, wizards didn’t create alchemy. Is that clear?”

“But what about Nicholas Flamel? Wasn't he an alchemist?" Harry Potter asked curiously.

"No," Edward steamed as he hated his students even bringing up that name.

"But Paracelsus himself taught him. The founder of alchemy-" Granger added.

" _No_."

"But he created the philosopher’s st-” the red head next to them started.

“NO!” Edward growled slamming his metal fist down on the desk next to him. The wood broke under the force of his automail and his desk collapsed sending a few papers on top of it scattering to the floor. It effectively struck fear into the entire class on pure accident. Edward closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he felt his left fist clench up in frustration. He knew that Hohenheim and Mustang were both trying to tell him to keep calm but he couldn’t hear them at that moment. He released his breath and pried his fist from the desk where it was stuck. The wood made a cracking noise as it chipped and left the desk in even worse state than when it began. He dusted off the splinters carelessly and strode slowly across the room to where the red head was sitting. The poor child seemed to be scared out of his wits as Edward leaned over the desk and glared at him.

“Name,” he ordered barely above a whisper. He could feel the anger radiating from himself and the kid seemed to know it. The red head managed to become paler than he was before and struggled to state his own name.

“R-ron… Weasley,” the kid stuttered seeming to realise he had made a mistake with his big mouth. Edward narrowed his eyes at the kid.

“Mr. Weasley, you have been talking a bit too much and I hate to be interrupted. Would you stay after class?” He asked him. The wizard nodded and Edward glanced to the other Gryffindors sitting next to him. They looked rather scared as well, not from his glare but probably from the fact that they were just as curious as Weasley. After all you can’t come across the all powerful stone and not have questions on what it can do. “You and your two friends here,” he added. The kids gave exasperated growls at their red headed friend as they were forced to stay after class. With a frown Edward spun around and faced the class.

“If you think you are going to be creating a stone you are wrong. If you think you are going to hear of long alchemic legends you are wrong. If you even ask anything about the philosopher’s stone… you are _wrong_ ,” Edward hissed to the entire class. “If that is your intentions leave this class right now because if I ever find out you are trying to make one, find one, or use one, expect me in your common room for a thorough beating. To gain great power, comes even greater loss. This will be your first lesson on one of the laws of Alchemy. Equivalent Exchange.”

……….

 _“You sure know how to scare your students,”_ Roy huffed as Edward sat with his feet propped up on his broken desk, waiting for the class to finally be over. He had given the students the first three basic laws of alchemy, written down on the board and lightly briefed. That was more than he ever got from his teacher so it should have been over sufficient for a class of students living life in carefree luxury.

  1. All is one, One is all.
  2. The law of polarity
  3. Equivalent Exchange



They had the entire class to sit there and try to prove to him that they understood them. He was keeping a running tally on which students got which laws right. So far a few of them, Granger and surprisingly Longbottom in the bunch, got the last two correct. With their own separate explanations and short answers on why the laws were important in life they achieved a mark by their names for the 2nd and 3rd laws however no one yet had gotten the first. It wasn’t like he expected the students to succeed in such short time, but he thought that more would have understood the importance of the other laws. Some got the right concept but didn’t know why it applied to the universe let alone every day living. Edward sighed as he started to count the ticks of the clock as the minutes chimed by.

“I know I got carried away,” Edward huffed under his breath, hoping not to disturb his class with his talking. “But it seemed to work most of them got at least one of them-”

 _“Just not the first,”_ Alphonse chimed in sadly. Edward nodded his head with a light hum.

“And that’s the one I am counting on to get me out of this class,” Edward said.

“ _You are a horrible teacher,”_ Winry stated flatly.

“I know,” Edward replied with a light smirk that didn’t feel all too confident in. Though he took pride in being a horrible teacher because Alchemy wasn’t something to mess with, he knew that it really was true. He was a horrible teacher. If he was a fairly good one, maybe Flamel wouldn’t have stolen the stone from him in the first place. If he was a good teacher Flamel would have learned his lesson.

“ _Brother, you know it wasn’t your fault-”_

“I know but… if I just taught him better then maybe-”

 _“Mrs. Curtis beat it into us that Human Transmutation was impossible remember? And we still did it. She wasn’t a bad teacher was she?”_ Alphonse asked rhetorically. Edward looked down at the floor as he remembered the mistake that started it all. Their teacher had told them over and over in her own way that it was impossible. She even knew it first hand, yet they still went against her teachings. Was that just what Flamel did? _“Brother, at least be a little gentler to the students. They are kids after all.”_

"Kids that can make mistakes and they don't have a few hundred years to go around fixing them. They only have one," Edward replied softly. Suddenly the bells rung in the clock tower signalling the end of class. The students could seem to get up fast enough. Over half of them sprinted out of the classroom while others tripped over each other just to get their bags. Yes, maybe Edward could have lightened up on them if they were that desperate to escape his clutches. He groaned to himself as he massaged his face tiredly. He couldn’t do this.

“Professor?” he heard a light voice ask him.

“Whaaat?” he groaned in exhaustion and frustration.

“You wanted us to stay after?” the student asked and Edward looked up curiously to see the three gryffindors before him; Granger, Weasley, and Potter, all in a row. He had nearly forgotten.

 _“Gentle,”_ Alphonse ordered him.

“I know what you did last year,” Edward started slowly. “Albus told me everything about it, how you found the stone, even held it-”

“You aren’t going to show up in our common rooms are you?” Weasley asked nervously, so scared Edward wouldn’t have questioned if he would have shitted himself right there.

“What? No. That was a stupid threat, far from the truth,” Edward told them. The three students seemed to lighten up a bit. “If I hear anything about the philosopher’s stone again I will personally see to it that you are humiliated, expelled, beaten to a pulp by the whomping willow, and then fed to the dementors to get your souls sucked out before noon. That is what I would really do but that is besides the point,” Edward finished effectively squashing their hopes. He felt his little brother’s sardonic disbelief in him however he chose to ignore it for the time being.

“What I asked you to stay after class for was to tell you that the philosopher’s stone doesn’t exist-”

“But we saw it last year. Nicholas Flamel-” Harry Potter started but Edward shook his head.

“In this class the stone does not exist. I don’t care what you did, what you saw last year or its relation to what you wizards presume alchemy is. In this class the stone does not exist. I don’t want you encouraging the other students to do something as reckless as try to find it or worse, make it.”

“But Flamel was a great alchemist. Everyone knows he made one-” Hermione interrupted but Edward gave a short snort as he heard her.

“Didn't you ever think history books got it wrong?" he asked her. "Let me tell you a secret. Nicholas Flamel never made a philosopher’s stone. And for the safety of this class, I hope you graciously pretend that the stone doesn't exist. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir,” she mumbled weakly and the other two followed suit. Edward studied them as if testing their honesty but found nothing faulty in it. Silence hung in their conversation as Edward had not yet dismissed the three gryffindors and didn’t know quite what to do. He cleared his throat awkwardly as he stood up and grabbed his cloak off of the back of his chair.

“Well,” Edward sighed as he wrapped his cloak around his shoulders seeing that the conversation seemed to have halted. “You best be on your way and I best be on mine. I have a library book to return,” he smirked as he picked up the tomb he had stolen from Granger and waved it lightly in his hand as if reminding her. He walked towards the door without any regard towards his students and opened the door to leave.

 _“Well, at least it was some improvement,”_ he heard Roy mumble.

“Shut up you bastard,” Edward huffed at him.

…………

“Why would he say the stone doesn’t exist? It doesn’t make sense,” Harry asked innocently as they scrambled down the stairs for their Transfiguration lesson after Alchemy. The short talk they had with the professor about Ron’s big mouth left them with many questions and didn’t solve any of the ones they asked before. Hermione frowned, her face bright red and her book bag lighter as the Professor had confiscated the text she was reading. Harry didn’t think that he saw her more embarrassed in her life. The man announced she was wrong to the entire class, that was something she wasn’t used to. Infact, both Harry and Ron were surprised because Hermione was   _never_ wrong.

“He obviously knows it was real, that it was here. He was screaming for it at the opening feast. I don’t know what changed his mind-”

“Maybe he wants it all for himself. He wants to become immortal like You Know Who-”

“He isn’t evil, Ron-”

“You don’t know that-”

“Professor Dumbledore hired him-”

“He hired Quirrel-”

“That doesn’t mean-”

“But it’s a possibility,” Harry interrupted the argument that could have gone on for ages. Ron looked surprised for a second that Harry was siding with him but gave their other friend a victorious smirk. Hermione rolled her eyes at him, upset for her loss. “I mean… it happened once… who says it couldn’t happen again? We don’t even know anything about him-”

“But he’s just a kid, barely older than us,” Hermione reasoned against them but Ron, for once, knew better.

“He’s the one that said he was older than he looked,” Ron suggested. “He probably isn’t who he says he is either. He’s probably just trying to get to the stone. Why else would he know so much about it?”

“Because he’s an alchemist?” Hermione said sarcastically. “Look, we don’t have enough information to go off of even if we want to dig deeper. All we know is that he’s an alchemist and our new professor. That’s it. We don’t even know what this art can do.”

“We are going to learn it aren’t we?” Ron retorted.

“Only if we ‘understand’ the three laws,” Hermione muttered, her face growing a little redder at the thought of the class. She seemed furious that she couldn’t even get the first law right when she tried. Alchemy seemed to be the one class that she just hit the wall with. It challenged her.

“Then we are just going to have to figure them out,” Harry said flatly, not even sure where to begin. However that seemed to be their best bet. The more they were able to understand alchemy, the more they might be able to understand the strange man that taught them.

The three of them scurried into the transfigurations classroom before the bell rang and took their seats. Most of the class was made up of their previous one. Harry saw that all of the students were whispering to each other about the new professor much like the three of them were doing in the hall. Some of the Ravenclaws were pointing to a notebook which he guessed that the three laws written on it. They were arguing on theories on what they were and reasons why the professor had them learn them. It confused Harry too. He didn’t know why the professor refused to teach any of them but instead gave them riddles they couldn’t understand.

“Alright students calm down,” McGonagall ordered as they were all chattering about their alchemy professor. However even though McGonagall was one of the most strict and intimidating professors in the school, it seemed to Harry that the questions just got louder.

“Why did they add a new alchemy class if we aren’t going to learn anything?”

“Professor Elric is crazy-”

“Professor, can you please help us with this?” the Ravenclaws asked desperately pointing to the notebook laying on their desk. McGonagall seemed overwhelmed but the sudden on roar of questions she waved her hands desperately trying to calm her class down.

“Quiet. Quiet! What has gotten into you all? I wouldn’t expect you to be this rowdy on the first day!” she scolded effectively silencing everyone’s concerns.

“It’s our alchemy class!” a hufflepuff complained.

“The Professor -”

“Master Elric is your teacher,” McGonagall cut them all off, her voice stiff. “His methods are unorthodox, his attitude is tempermental, but he is your teacher none the less and… as much as I hate to say this, he is really the only person capable of teaching alchemy correctly-”

“But he doesn’t teach us at all!” another student cried. “We have to teach the laws to ourselves and we don’t know anything about it.”

“There has to be someone else! He can’t be the only person in the world to know it,” Ron argued flatly but the pointed glare of their transfigurations professor caught him and Harry could have sworn that underneath her stiff composure he saw a look of sympathy. Even the Professor didn’t seem to like the newest member of the faculty.

“Unfortunately,” she sighed adjusting her slim spectacles on her nose, “As informed to me by the Headmaster, Mr. Elric really is the only person in the world to know true alchemy. Many wizards tried and failed to learn it and so the history books are very inaccurate. So it looks like you are stuck with him.”

“How old _is_ he, Professor?” Harry asked in amazement as McGonagall told them little information about their unknown professor. She shook her head, her face as curious as his.

“I don’t know Potter. I just know he is older than me, older than even Dumbledore-”

“ _Older than Dumbledore?”_ Malfoy exclaimed in disbelief. “How is that possible? He doesn’t look any older than the sixth years!”

“A lot of facial creme I guess,” McGonagall muttered not too convincingly. The class looked at each other and whispers started up as they argued about their findings. However the Professor didn’t seem to like it and she puffed up a bit in anger. “I bet it is about time we stop talking about another class and start talking about this one. Take your books out and…”

………

Edward let out a deep breath as he walked towards his classroom, keys jingling in his hand. He had gone for a walk after returning the library book in an attempt to explore his new prison. Unfortunately he already knew the castle and knew that there was nowhere he could go. To make it worse the students seemed to flood every corner of the place and he couldn’t even get some peace and quiet in his sulkings.

“It’s only a year. It’s only a year,” he whispered to himself as he tried to calm his enraged nerves. He felt utterly trapped and quite frankly alone. He didn’t have anything that was remotely homely here as he travelled light and didn’t have anything on him when Albus played that cruel trick on him. He figured he could go beg either the headmaster or the potion’s master to get him some simple things just so his room wouldn’t look so bare and he wouldn’t be so bored. However with his pride already severed and near destroyed from his entrapment, he would have to save any more embarrassment for another day.

Edward placed the key into the door and opened up his classroom for some rest before his next class. Any moron could have opened the door with magic or blasted their own somehow but Edward just locked his door for normality. He would like to pretend at some points that magic didn’t exist. Though he spent a decent amount of time learning it in his years, he still couldn’t forget the horrors that came over him the first few years in this world. Seeing witches and wizards around again was like a slap in the face, bringing back old nightmares that he spent years trying to suppress.

“ _Calm down Edward. The Crusades are over,”_ he heard Hohenheim tell him as Edward realised his hand start to shake uncontrollably. He held onto his wrist with his stiff automail hand and forced himself to calm down. He quickly reminded himself that it was the 20th century.

“Damn it all,” he hissed as he stormed into the room and slammed the door behind him. The frame shook and the loud shotgun noise rang around the room and Edward tensed at it but after a second all was silent again. He let out a strained sigh as he ran his fingers through his bangs and heavily staggered over to his desk. It was still broken from that morning when he gave it a beating in his own frustration but Edward didn’t care at that point. He just shuffled over to the chair which rested behind it and collapsed down in exhaustion.

“It has been so long and yet I can imagine yesterday we were back home in Resembool, eh Al?” Edward mumbled as he slouched down in his chair and stared blankly at the ceiling. The windows were closed as Edward didn’t care to open them, knowing it wouldn’t have made a difference to his interment. He was still trapped there and an open window would have just driven him crazy knowing that he was stuck within the walls of the castle, only a small dark and dreary court yard as his only form of outside limits. It acted like a dog pen if Edward ever wanted to get some fresh air, surrounded by four large stone walls that never let in a cool breeze and blocked sunlight from the best part of the morning till mid afternoon. The courtyard was always filled with students travelling from classes or just enjoying the day studying outside so Edward never went there.

“ _Hmm,_ ” Alphonse hummed silently as they both started to reminisce home. Edward found himself missing the rolling hills of Resembool and their long flowing grasses. He used to hate how open the land was as there wasn’t anything to do in the countryside as far away as they were but now he would give up anything to be there again.

“ _Edward,_ ” Alponse said quietly, sounding as if there was something on his mind. It snapped Edward from his imaginings and he answered quickly.

“What’s up little brother?” Edward asked a bit of concern flying through him.

 _“What was it that you wanted to tell me earlier? In the headmaster’s office, i mean? What happened when I was gone?”_ Edward frowned, his body frozen stiff from the grief that was filled inside of him. He could feel Mustang’s rage, his sadness, all of it. The torment that ran through his commanding officer flowed through all of them and to bring it up was over stimulating. Forcing himself to move through all of the emotional ache, Edward felt his body whine and creak at him as he placed his feet on the floor to stabilize himself. Seeming to sense Edward’s struggle Alphonse quickly apologised for bringing it up so casually. He didn’t seem to know it was such a sensitive topic, especially to the Colonel.

“ _Edward,”_ the stiff yet trembling voice of Mustang sounded out. Edward could hear the pain in it. The man didn’t want to remember the night Nicholas betrayed them. Everyone had their own reasons to hate that night, Edward had multiple, but it struck the Colonel hardest of all and Edward knew he would never be able to come back from it. “ _Let me step out for a minute,”_ he asked so casually if Edward couldn’t hear the anger in his voice he would have thought Mustang just wanted to go for a stroll.

“Colonel,” Edward said, having not called him that in ages it seemed stiff, too formal, “I don’t have enough energy in me to bond you… I can’t-”

“ _Edward, what happened?”_ Alphonse asked weakly, not knowing the cause of Mustang’s despair. Edward closed his mouth as he thought about how to tell Alphonse what happened when Flamel took him. How do you say something like that?

“A-alphonse… um… when you… when Flamel,” Edward stuttered unable to bring about a good sentence with Mustang’s grief looming over him. It really almost destroyed him. Edward sucked in a huge breath and released it, building up his nerve to tear open old wounds. “When Flamel took you, he ran me through remember?”

“ _How could I forget, brother?”_ Alphonse stuttered, the visible memories of Nicholas’ betrayal. “ _He then locked you behind the-”_

“Don’t bring that part up, Al,” Edward hissed quickly, shutting his little brother up before he began. It came out harsh, but Edward didn’t think he could handle telling Alphonse this story and bringing up his own nightmares as well. He apologised lightly for his swiftness but took another breath as he tried to stabilize himself.

“As you know… in order to repair the… damage the stone that was still inside of me was used. And in that process the consumed soul is chosen at random-”

“ _Oh, no!”_ Alphonse gasped as he realised what Edward was getting at. The stone was used to heal him which meant another soul was lost. Whenever Edward failed to die, another person would. In the event that they would return to Amestris and send everyone back home to their bodies, a few of them would not make it. There was already an orbituary running on the stone and now there was even more with Nicholas’ interference. Some of the people Edward was never able to meet in person, others unfortunately he knew quite well. _“Brother, who was it?”_ Alphonse asked weakly, fearing the news of death.

“It was Winry,” Edward muttered but that struck Alphonse to the core.

“ _But Winry is still here! She’s still alive! Brother you can’t joke about this-”_

“I AM NOT JOKING!” Edward scolded his little sibling. The hysterical Alphonse quieted down and Edward felt a pain in his chest as he felt some tears start to threaten his composure. He pinched his nose and took a few moments to himself, Alphonse waiting patiently. “Winry was going to be used she… she was fading away but… Hawkeye stopped her,” Edward muttered quietly. His little brother gasped and Edward covered his face in his hands as he slid down in his chair, the weight of the conversation bearing down on him. “Hawkeye took her place and.... She was used to repair the wound-”

“ _Oh my god, Brother…. Mustang,”_ Alphonse started, worried about their old friend. Edward opened his mouth to try and ease Alphonse’s grief but suddenly there was a loud knock on the door. He cursed and seeming to ignore the fact that there wasn’t an invitation, the door opened up.

“Mr. Elric-”

“Damn it, can’t you see that we are having a conversation here?!” Edward raged at the new commer. He recognised the woman as the old transfigurations teacher. She looked absolutely startled from his explosion but didn’t seem to take his heed. She just stood halfway through the room, not moving to leave. “Get out for fuck’s sake!”

“Mr. Elric! I will not! I know you are ancient but I will not accept this rude behavior in this school! Your students are very upset with-,” the woman started to scold him when she suddenly caught a closer look at him. Edward wiped his face trying to get some of the straying tears off of it. Not wanting the professor to see the great Eastern Sage all emotional, he quickly turned his back and pretended that something was in his eye or that something else caught his attention. However it was a simple facade that the professor had no trouble seeing through.

“Mr. Elric are you alright?” McGonagall asked gently, her swift sharp voice taking on the quite opposite tone. He nodded his head silently.

“I guess you could say that, just… informing my brother on the latest tragedies our lives have to suffer through,” Edward mumbled mocking fate’s cruelty with a light wave of his hand. McGonagall looked around the classroom as if trying to find who he was talking to but of course came up empty.

“Mr. Elric-”

“Edward.”

“Um.. Edward,” the professor said awkwardly after a moment’s hesitation. “No one is here-”

“To most it would seem that way, but …,” Edward stumbled, taking in a shaky breath, “to some we are having a very important and personal conversation. Can you leave?...... please,” he added stiffly on the end as if that would make up for his rude outburst earlier. The transfigurations professor seemed taken back by his sudden change of demeanor and she closed her mouth.

“Well, I.. will just bring this up with the headmaster then…,” she said slowly as she turned her back and made towards the door. Just as she was about to leave she paused for a moment in the doorway and looked back at him. “I am … sorry for interrupting. I hope your brother will forgive me,” she stated flatly and then with only a slight pause, left and closed the door behind her.

Edward collapsed down to the floor, leaning his back on his broken desk as he just sat in his empty classroom in silence. He could still feel Roy’s rage and Alphonse’s shock from their interrupted conversation. It swirled around him almost suffocatingly. He could hear Alphonse try to talk to Mustang to calm his nerves, he was always better at sympathy than Edward was. So he just let the two of them talk, listening to their quiet words in hopes of calming himself down too.

It was just too fast, all of it. None of them knew what Nicholas was up to until Edward had a short sword straight through his gut, pinning him to the wall like a tack. Without the sword removed and then with Flamels own _‘extra measures’_ to make sure Edward couldn’t follow him afterwards, the stones use was slow and unbearable as he couldn’t heal properly. For two whole years they watched Hawkeye just fade away unable to do anything about it. It was traumatising for all of them.

 _“Edward,”_ Winry muttered, the sadness in her voice prominent, “ _Do you think you will ever catch up with Flamel?”_ Edward glanced down at his hands which rested limply in his lap. They had been chasing him for over 600 years. They knew him too well to lose his trace yet he knew them too well to be caught. It has been a struggle just to get this far with him. Edward wanted to find him for his brother and the stone, Mustang wanted to find him for the sake of Hawkeye and making him realise what he did. Yet in all reality, though their hopes were high, Edward just couldn’t answer that question, or at least he didn’t want to.

“I don’t know,” he muttered simply and left it at that.

………

“Albus, I don’t like having him amongst the students,” Minerva said stiffly as she stood in front of the Headmaster’s desk during one of her free periods after seeing Edward. “They complain that he isn’t teaching them and I heard from many of the students that he outright insulted them! Why did you ever have him become a professor?”

“Is that all you are worried about?” Dumbledore asked distractedly as he brushed the feathers of his Phoenix.

“No! He is rude, disrespectful and a horrible role model for the students! I don’t think everything is right with him-”

“What do you mean right, Minerva?” Dumbledore inquired, cutting her off from her angered rant. “Do you mean how he talks to himself?”

“Yes! I don’t think it is good for him,” she said, the worry in her voice overcoming her anger at that moment. It was a little disturbing seeing such a powerful person so distraught. It made him almost look just like the child he appeared to be. She knew he was the Eastern Sage, she knew that he was near immortal with how old he was but she just couldn’t picture him being so… normal. “He was quite upset and.. He said he was talking to his brother but there was no one there! I think he needs to see someone-”

“And yet, no one would be able to help him because Master Elric’s case is one in a kind,” the headmaster answered sadly. “Minerva, one thing you should know about a long life is that you see a great many things, but upon seeing them you change. Master Elric’s life wasn’t an easy one as I gather and even more recently it hasn’t been good for him. He isn’t used to normal life as we live it and now… I fear he is just having trouble fitting in-”

“That doesn’t mean he can just neglect his students and-”

“You are right about that which is why I put him as Lockhart assistant. Maybe watching his peers at work might set him in the right direction,” Albus smiled.

“But-”

“Minerva, I know it is a bit intimidating for you that we have the Eastern Sage in the castle, but the best we can do is give him our best hospitality. Which, as it just so happens, I would like you to go to Paracelsus’ house and pick up some of his homely things. He doesn't have anything here except what he has on his back. It would be appreciated if we bring him some things to make him feel more at home-”

“His house?!” Minerva exclaimed. “No one knows where he lives! He's a legend! He appears every few fifty years and disappears again! How-”

“Severus knows where it is. He will go with you-”

“I really don't think he would be happy with the intrusion-”

“Don't worry Minerva,” Dumbledore winked. “I think he would be very grateful.” McGonagall frowned as the Headmaster played their trespassment off like it wasn’t anything of consequence. Though Albus seemed fine with it, she highly doubted that the Eastern Sage would be too. She had seen him angry the previous evening and she really didn’t want to be on the other end of that rage.

……..

Edward groaned as he walked down the corridor of the Dark Arts Tower. He had just got finished with his other class and now Gilderoy Lockhart was beckoning him to his classroom to start his first lesson as his assistant. He had attempted ditching but Flitwick caught him and gave him a rather friendly reminder about his class. Flitwick was too nice of a man that Edward found himself unable to disappoint him. He still couldn’t believe that he was put under such an idiot like Gilderoy. It was probably Dumbledore’s idea to try and keep track of him. Who knew what would happen if a thousand year old being ran about a castle care free? Edward snorted sarcastically at the thought. Who knew what would happen if they let the famous Gilderoy Lockhart run loose around the castle? It was a double babysitting job. He would have to get Dumbledore back for this.

The students were already inside the classroom when he entered and Gilderoy was already talking about his many, many awards which he repeated a million times like he rehearsed it all the night before. In this case, he actually did because it was the exact spiel that he gave Edward the other evening when he lectured him on his elders.

“Ah, Mr. Elric! So kind of you to join us!” the man announced with a dashing smile. Edward really wondered if he would still win the best smile award if his teeth were knocked out. With as much luck as he was having that week, he guessed so.

“Class, this is Mr. Elric, as you all should know he is the new alchemy professor and my right hand man.” Edward took a short moment to glance at the students, all who seemed to have paled slightly in his presence. This was the second year class and they seemed to have remembered his lesson from earlier that day. Maybe he really did need to work on his teaching methods. Gilderoy however didn’t seem to notice the tensity of the room or at least didn’t care. He continued on.

“As we start off class today I would like to see who did their summer reading. Now a pop quiz!” the man said happily earning several groans from the students. Gilderoy picked up a large stack of papers and held them out to Edward as if he expected him to take them.

“What am I supposed to do with those?” Edward asked dumbly even though he knew exactly what the man wanted from him. Edward kept his arms crossed, giving him no sign that he was going to take the pile to start handing them out to the class.

“Well you are my assistant, you are supposed to help me-”

“Help you teach a class and by no means does a stupid quiz where one of the questions is about your favorite color teach a class on defense against the dark arts,” Edward scolded him. Gilderoy frowned, obviously displeased by his challenging attitude. However, like everything, he played it off.

“Edward, Edward, Edward,” he chuckled lightly as he flicked his wand and all of the papers magically began to pass themselves out to the little enthused students. “I know you are young and just starting to get a grasp on the world but you must understand teaching methods. This isn't to test the knowledge of the students, but to see if they did the reading and know the basis of what we are learning. It is a tool many professors use to get a benchmark for their class-”

“And that benchmark is based off of your favorite color and ideal birthday present?” Edward stated flatly as he snatched one of the quizzes off of the pile as it flew by him. The entire thing was rubbish and had nothing to do with magic at all. Infact, if there was a single question on the quiz that wasn't about Gilderoy, Edward would shoot himself… not that he didn't want to already. However Gilderoy seemed to have ignored him and set the class to their work. Quills were scribbling and Edward groaned to himself as he watched the students fill out the test, obviously in pain of how ridiculous  the questions were. Suddenly he heard a light whistle and looked up to see Gilderoy motioning towards him. He sighed as he let Lockhart drag him over to the corner of the room out of the way of the students rigorous exam.

“Edward,” the man said seriously as he slung an arm around his shoulders. Edward fought the urge to punch him in the face. “I didn't want to bring this up in front of the class because I thought it might be embarrassing and I didn't want the students to disrespect you for it. They are a tough and rowdy bunch you know and I don't want them to think unkindly of you since you're just stepping off. But….”

“But what?” Edward asked only slightly amused as to what the man had to say. Gilderoy sighed as if he was preparing to tell him that his puppy died.

“I do fear that you have a hard time respecting your elders,” the man admitted. “I brought this up in the Great Hall the other day but I don't think that I have gotten through to you. Usually when correcting students behavior a simple advisement is good but…. I am afraid that I am going to have to work with you on your attitude.” Edward heard a roar of laughter in his ears as Alphonse and Roy laughed their asses off at the idiot. It pounded through his ears and Edward felt his face flush with embarrassment as everyone in the stone started to laugh at him. Gilderoy was worried about the students hearing but his friends in the stone were much worse.

“ _Shut up,”_ Edward hissed at them but it only made matters worse. “ _At least Winry is trying to hold it in,”_ he scolded when he heard Winry’s snickering however after the comment she gave in and was howling with the rest of them.

“ _You do kind of act immature-”_

“Al, you can’t say that to your _older_ brother!”

“ _ha! I have been telling you that you have had attitude problems for years! For a complete idiot he hit the nail!”_ Roy roared.

“Shut up!” Edward scolded them a little louder.

“ _Edward. You need to act your age or else no one will take you seriously-”_ Hohenheim started his usual serious lecture, seeming to have taken the buffoon to heart on the matter.

“That's it! I would like you try and-” Edward started but halfway through his argument stopped as he saw the professor just staring at him like he was crazy. Edward glanced behind him to the rest of the class and they seemed to have given up on their quizzes, taking more interest in watching their professor mutter angrily to himself. They probably thought he was going insane.

“What did you say?” Gilderoy asked impatiently. Edward felt his face blush even harder in embarassment and he quickly dropped his head into his hands wishing he could just disappear. Having been caught in conversation, the people in the stone worked to quiet themselves with little success which made it a lot easier for Edward to deal with the now new sets of eyes staring at him.

“I… I wasn't talking to you,” he muttered at the man all the while silently ordering his friends to shut up. Gilderoy sighed as he tsked.

“This is a good example, Edward, about what I mean. Muttering while an adult is trying to talk to you… its improper. I have some students that are holding detention with me in the evenings. I think it might be best if you came along.”

“Wait wait wait,” Edward said waving his hands as if to press pause on the conversation. “You… You are giving me _detention?_ ” he asked in disbelief.

“No. not detention… rather a learning opportunity,” the man smiled. “I will be able to give you some teaching tips as well. Get you on point with the other professors because, let’s just say, they don’t seemed to have taken kindly to you.”

“I-”

“So it’s settled. Extra tutoring for you starting Saturday evening! Don’t worry, son, we will have you shaped up in no time!” Gilderoy cheered as he whipped his wand and all of the students tests flew out of their hands and back onto his desk in a neat pile. It seemed like over half of them weren’t finished and some even had a line of ink where the student was writing as it flew out of their hands. Edward stared dumbfounded as the man started going about like their conversation didn’t happen. The man really did give him detention. He wasn’t even a student.

“Ah, I could see some of you had trouble with the reading. You need to read _Wanderings with Werewolves_ more closely in order to remember that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples- though a bottle of Ogden’s Firewhiskey would definitely be appreciated,” the man said with a sly wink. Edward massaged his face with his hands in complete disbelief.

 _“Are you seriously still surprised about this man?”_ Roy asked as they watched the professor go on and talk about himself all the while completely ignorant of how some of his students were laughing their asses off at him. Even the students didn’t respect him.

“He just seems to be finding new definitions for being a half-witt,” Edward muttered underneath his breath. He watched through his fingers as Gilderoy announced, dramatically, the actual start of his class and pulled out a shrouded cage from behind his desk. Edward’s nerves went on high alert as he saw it. The cage rattled and high pitch squeals rang out of it violently. _Cornish Pixies._ Now Edward knew that on the Danger index the cornish pixie was only X however they were notorious for being violent trouble makers. He didn’t know if the class, let alone Gilderoy, was ready for them. Hell, Edward could barely manage himself when he stumbled on a nest of them on one of his walks through the woods. He actually needed Roy to take out the mass of them by fire. Of course he had already given up his wand at this point but pixies still weren’t an easy thing to deal with.

“You aren’t really doing this,” Edward said to Gilderoy as he removed the cover dramatically. One of the third years burst out laughing as the man had built up the idea that their worst fears hid in the cage when it was just a bunch of nasty blue pixies.

“Why yes… I like to have a bit of… hands on experience-” the man smiled reaching for the door of the cage but Edward snatched him by the wrist and stopped him in his tracks. Gilderoy winced as Edward had grabbed him by his automail arm just a little too tightly. “Ooh, strong grip you got there,” the man chuckled weakly under his glare.

“Perhaps we should teach the students how to handle them first before we open the cage?” Edward suggested coldly but Gilderoy just gave him his knowing smile as he, not too smoothly, ripped his arm from Edward’s steel grasp.

“I believe in learning on the job,” the man winked as he slipped past Edward and flew the cage door open.

It was chaos in seconds. The pixies shot out of the cage like a berray of bullets. Books, papers, anything you could imagine, found its way on the floor or even out of the windows. Broken glass sprinkled the floors as every single window was trashed. Ink bottles were sprayed and Edward found himself being coated in the black substance as a pixie dumped a whole bottle on his head. All of the students were running or ducking under the desks to evade the pixies except for one which unfortunately had the joy of falling victim under the pixies most nasty habit of lifting people by their ears and hanging from random high places.

“Longbottom, what are you doing up there?” Gilderoy said as he looked up at the student hanging from the chandelier. “Come on now everyone, put them back in their cages they’re only pixies.” Seeing that the students had no clue what they were doing, Lockhart took out his wand and jabbered a absolute faux spell just to have a pixie toss his wand out of the window too. The man, now having nothing to defend himself with and having lost all of his courage, dove under a nearby desk just like the class.

“What are you doing?” Edward scolded the man when suddenly the high chandelier broke and the poor student that was hung by the back of his robes on it was sent falling with about a hundred pounds of brass and glass. Edward sprinted over and with a clap of his hands made a stone hand protrude from the ground to break the boy’s fall. Neville was caught safely in its grasp however the chandelier crashed to the ground nearly on top of Lockhart. Edward however wasn’t too worried about that. Suddenly the bell rang and the entire class made a mad dash to the door, Gilderoy included. Just as the last couple students were near the exit, the man slipped past them like a snake and smiled weakly.

“If you could just nip them back into their cage that would be great,” the man squeaked before he closed the door on them, leaving Edward and the last few students trapped in the pandemonium.

“What do we do?” Ron Weasley yelped as a pixie bit him on the ear.

“I-I don’t know,” Hermione called as she immobilised one with a freezing charm, but like Lockhart her wand was taken and the pixies lodged it on a high ledge of the room. Harry tried batting the pixies with a book in an attempt to keep them away however the blue beasts took that too and shredded it to confetti.

"You don't know? You always know!" Ron exclaimed in shock as the person who surely had the answer was coming up blank.

“Professor, what do we do?” Harry asked as the three tried to keep the pixies at bay with whatever they could find. Edward was having his own trouble as a few of the pixies thought it would be neat to toy with his automail arm. They managed to make a few grabs at it but Edward grabbed them by their legs and hurled them across the room. A couple of them hit the wall and were knocked out but the majority of them were just squealing like it was a joy ride.

“I don’t do magic. I don't have a wand,” Edward called out as a pixie grabbed his cape and flipped it over his head. He brushed the long fabric out of his face just to catch the students with dumbfounded looks. Here they were trapped in a room with the absolute chaos of cornish pixies, none of them knowing what to do and the professor not having a wand. Edward cursed Lockhart for his stupidity. He swatted a pixie out of the way and looked quickly around the room as he tried to assess their situation. Pixies were flying everywhere, at least fifty of them in the whole bunch. There was no way that he could capture all of them with stone alchemy. They were too fast. He knew what he needed to do.

“Get under the desk,” Edward ordered them as he clapped his hands.

“We are just going to hide?” Weasley asked.

“No! Just get under the bloody desk!” Edward scolded the annoying kid as he touched the ground. A large black suit of armor rose up from the stone in the floor. It was Mustang’s.

 _“No. Edward you are not bringing me out for a bunch of pixies. You can do flame alchemy yourself,”_ Roy yelled at him.

“ _Brother you don’t have enough energy. You haven’t rested enough. You are going to hurt yourself,”_ Alphonse said worriedly.

“I am not precise enough in my flame alchemy. I will more likely set this whole place up in flames than actually hit a pixie and you can’t catch flying pixies in stone,” Edward told him as the glowing red array etched its way through the air around the armor. He touched his hand to his chest and in summoning the reluctant soul from the stone he felt himself become immensely tired even from the act of it. It took a lot of energy to bind souls to armor temporarily. Alphonse and Mustang both being out the previous evening for such a long time exhausted him. He still felt sluggish from it. But here he was again trying to bind another soul. It was only for a short amount of time though, he could do it. Right?

The red soul fire came out on his finger tips and he casted it into the armor, sealing Mustang to the large suit. In an instant he felt nearly all of his energy seep out of him and he was sent to his knees as he felt he could barely stand up. His head swirled as he became instantly dizzy. The voices inside of him scolded him for being so careless but he heard a snap and flames filled the room as the cornish pixies were caught in their burning embrace and ignited. The high shrill voices of the beasts hurt his ears as they were all scortched with one sweep of the flames. Edward blurrily looked over as he caught sight of the three Gryffindors under the desk. Their eyes were wide in frightful awe as they watched the now conscious armor battle the damned pixies with one snap of its fingers.

When the flames cooled off the tall black armor turned around and the burning red eyes in the helmet glared at Edward. “You idiot,” the man said. “I told you not to bring me out but you never listen. Now look at you. You can barely stand.” Edward chuckled as he defiantly tried to stand up. It took most of his effort and probably looked pitiful but he pulled himself up to lean against a desk.

“You aren’t my… commanding officer anymore… I don’t need to listen to you,” he breathed heavily as he blinked a few times, his head still swimming. Clouds started to fog his vision and he couldn’t bat them away. “Besides, we got those damn pixies under control. Now if only Lockhart was here… you could burn him too.”

“Put me back in before you pass out,” Roy ordered coldly, ignoring his light hearted joke. The armor gripped him by the shoulders to hold him up. Edward tried batting him away annoyingly.

“You’re good for a few more hours….. I am not gonna pass out and if I did … which I am not...you know what to do,” Edward huffed as he tried to take a step towards the door. The smell of burning flesh was getting to him. His legs shook and he nearly would have falled over if it weren’t for his grip on the table.

“Professor are you alright?” Granger choked as the three students crawled out from under the table. They coughed lightly with the smoke and looked rather ruffled from their first experience with flame alchemy. It really puts an impression on people.

“He’s going to pass out,” Roy stated flatly and Edward shot him a tired glare.

“I am not going to pass out,” he retorted dumbly.

“What in the world happened?” Weasley asked as he looked around the room. It was left in utter chaos by the pixies but from the flames it was left untouched.

“Alchemy,” Roy stated flatly. “This idiot called me out to clean up this mess because he doesn't spend enough time practicing his flame alchemy-"

"So now it's my fault?!" Edward exclaimed.

"It's always your fault. Now you are going to pass out and I am going to have to haul your ass back to the medical ward."

“I am not gonna-,” Edward started to turn around to argue with him but suddenly he let go of the table and his knees collapsed under him. He fell flat to the ground, his face effectively smacking off of the stone. “Ow,” Edward muttered as he just laid there, the world spinning around him with much more pain in it than there was before. He heard worried whispers above him but their voices were all distorted and he couldn’t tell what they were saying. Suddenly stiff arms picked him up off of the ground and it almost felt like he was floating in air.

“Told you,” was the last thing he heard before the spinning world stopped and everything just went black.

…….


	3. Nightmares

**_Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage_ **

Chapter 3

Nightmares

 

Minerva shivered as she wrapped her cloak around herself. For the end of summer, the climate in Siberia was near freezing and neither of the wizards were at all prepared for it. 

“Why couldn’t we apparate all the way to his house?” Minerva asked Severus as they trudged through the thick taiga forests of East Siberia. The trees hung over them, their huge canopies blocking the sky and much of the sunlight. It was difficult terrain climbing over the heavily forested mountains and Minerva was regretting ever seeing Dumbledore on the matter of the Eastern Sage. She could have been teaching her classes instead of this!

“The trees are so thick and the terrain is not navigated so apparating we might not land in too friendly of a spot,” Severus huffed as he helped the Gryffindor professor up a steep incline. “It also seems that though the Eastern Sage gave up his wand, he managed to put a few wards around his house.”

“What on earth would he need them for if he lives all the way out here? It isn’t like anyone’s going to come visiting-”

“I believe he feared that they might try,” the man sighed and Minerva closed her mouth. She didn’t know much about the Eastern Sage but it seemed that Albus and Severus did. She didn’t know how long they have been following Mr. Elric but she knew that it was no coincidence that Severus knew where the man lived. It seemed now that with her curiosity having gotten the better of her, the conspiring men have included her in their concern with the old Alchemist. She was just afraid of where this might take her. As it was commonly said, curiosity killed the cat. 

They continued on for a few good hours. For muggles traversing the countryside it would have taken a few good days but the two of them apparated where they could which cut some time and packed light. Minerva, having trouble on some of the rocky terrain, morphed into a feline part way through their trip as it was much easier to navigate on four legs than it was on two. Just as they managed to make it to the summit of one of the unmarked mountains Severus stopped as something on a nearby tree caught his attention. 

“We are close,” he muttered as Minerva morphed back into her normal form. She walked over to where he was analyzing the bark of the tree, wondering what he was doing until she caught sight of a strange glyph carved in the wood. 

“Runic magic?” she huffed as she looked at the symbol, putting her glasses higher on her nose so she can see it properly. “It’s the symbol of protection. Is this how he has hid his home for so long?” she asked her colleague who just nodded his head. 

“He has a wide area encircled with these so they conceal everything,” Severus muttered. 

“How do you know all this Severus?” Minerva asked with concern as the two of them stepped past the tree in order to continue their journey to the ancient home but the instant they passed the trunk of the tree the cool brisk air of the taiga turned into a nice warm temperature, where summer should have been if they were anywhere else. Minerva took her heavy travelling cloak off and draped it over her arm for the rest of the journey. It seemed like even the Eastern Sage didn’t want to deal with the harsh environment for the entire year. “What have you and Dumbledore been planning with Mr. Elric?”

“Flamel was concerned about Elric and wanted a few things for him,” Severus said flatly. “It isn’t a concern of many.”

“Well it should be of mine,” Minerva huffed to herself but it went unheard. They both wandered down off of the mountain top and into the depths of the forest now trapped in a summer’s heat. 

When they managed to get off of the mountain, there was a small clearing in the woods, not far ahead. No solid structures sat on the grass of the small meadow. Instead it was as if the earth and the grass rose up to make a small hill for the house that they were trying to find. A couple windows, a door, and a chimney, the basics for a house, seemed to be ingrained into the side of the hill, as if to welcome anyone into the depths of the earth. Minerva, as they walked up to it, studied the strange subterranean house a bit disappointed. For finding the house of an ancient being that no one has ever been able to find, she would have thought the house to be a little more pronounced. However the craftsmanship put into it was very sophisticated as simple designs seemed to have etched it's way into the wood itself. It was looked to be a woodworker’s dream as all of them seemed to be hand carved and flourished.

“It’s sealed shut,” Severus muttered as he tried the door, noticing that the wooden plane was fused with the elegantly made frame. The man whipped out his wand and got ready to blow the door down but Minerva grabbed his wrist before he could do anything. 

“Are you insane? I don’t think Mr. Elric would like us blowing apart his door. We aren’t guests but that doesn’t mean we can just destroy everything!” She huffed at him. 

“There is no other way in-” Severus started but Minerva already was walking over the top of the green grass roof and pointed her wand to the ground. 

“Cuniculsulum!” she said stiffly and a hole dug itself into the earth and created a tunnel right from the roof into the Alchemist’s underground home. The dirt was packed away making a clean and undisturbed entrance, ready to be put back upon their departure. Minerva sheathed her wand and with a huff descended down into the small house with the Slytherin professor regretfully following. 

It was dark in the house but the light that came through the large round windows illuminated it enough for the wizards to get a good look around. It didn’t seem too significant of a place. Like Minerva thought before, she expected something more flashy from a thousand year old man. The floor was made of  nice thick and even larch and the interior walls were left bare for the most part, the thick clay soil being the finishing of the walls. Everything seemed to be made from the surrounding area, even then by hand. It was quaint and rather homey. It was no wonder Mr. Elric didn’t like the stone walls of the castle. It seemed that he was more accustomed to his small earthly bungalow. 

Tables and chairs were neatly placed however their surfaces were covered with notebooks and materials. Most of the parchments were coated in ancient scripts and maps that Minerva had to guess were part of the Alchemist’s study. As Minerva looked around at the Alchemist’s home, she saw cold cups sitting on the tables as if someone had been sitting there to read their morning paper. Infact, the more she looked around the place, the more she realised that it appeared as if the people living there just disappeared. Traces of living were scattered around like dirty dishes and open books. Mr. Elric must have been in a rush when he left however Minerva could only wonder why. Seeing these little disturbances in the house made Minerva feel a bit off put by the Alchemist. However, she tried to force down her uncomfortableness and do the job Dumbledore sent her there to do, recover some of his homely things.

No pictures hung on the walls for her to take however Minerva saw a few photographs lying amongst the heaps of papers. She walked over and brushed some of the notebooks and papers away to see the picture more clearly. It appeared to be a muggle family portrait as it didn't seem to be moving at all. A tall golden haired man and a shorter brown haired woman held onto who Minerva could only guess to be their sons. They were just infants at the time which put a small smile to Minerva's face. She wondered who the picture was of. The golden hair surely reminded the witch of the Eastern Sage but he was undoubtedly born before photographs were taken. She didn't think he had any descendants either. Determining it was a mystery for another day, Minerva tucked the photograph away in her pocket to take with her. She was sure that even the Eastern Sage would love a nice photograph in his room to make it homier. 

“I believe we should get him some clothes and… possibly some books-” Minerva started as she made a list of things the alchemist might need. As she opened up a wardrobe at the end of the house near a rather old yet neat bed, she noticed that most of Elric’s clothes were simple muggle casuals. A few button downs and blazers filled his closet and the occasional red cloak. For a man with a complex life, he seemed to live simply.

“Severus, do you have that bag?” she asked as she started to pull a few of Elrics clothes from the closet. One thing that they had brought with them on this long trip was an old beaten carpet bag. Not knowing how much Dumbledore wanted them to retrieve for Elric they had enchanted the bag to be endless so they didn’t have to worry about carrying capacity. 

Hearing no response from her coworker she looked up to see Severus rather preoccupied with a door near the back of the house. The entire house was one rather large open room and yet Severus was very interested in one of the only doors. Minerva threw down the few pieces of clothes she was holding on the bed and walked over to where Severus was pulling out his wand.

“What are you doing, Severus? We are supposed to-”

“You are supposed to recover some of Elric’s things. I am trying to recover something else,” Severus muttered quietly. He rolled up his sleeves and silently chanted “Alohamora.” The lock clicked open and Severus tried the knob. He cursed lightly as he found the door sealed exactly like the other one. Instead of waiting for Minerva’s input he blasted the door down with his wand. The wood went splintering and slammed into the opposite wall, imprinting itself into the soil. 

“Severus!” Minerva exclaimed as the man walked into the room. “You can’t just-” she started to scold him but froze as she saw what was hidden behind the door. It wasn’t one to the outside that she originally thought, it lead to a back room that must have been sectioned off from the house. It was dark, holding no windows, and dust cluttered the tables. Beakers and vials were set on top of them, old and unused. Sketches of strange gates were scattered over the walls and mysterious runes were scribbled anywhere they could. It looked like a laboratory of a mad man, for all Minerva knew, it was. 

“What on Earth was he-” she muttered but stopped as she looked down to the floor boards. A giant dark brown stain on the floor near the wall. It was old, extremely old and seemed to have faded over the years but the wooden boards had soaked up the colour for permanent imprintment. Though many would have mistaken it for an old leak or a spill, she knew what it was instantly.

“Blood?” she whispered in horrified disbelief. Severus walked into the room and bent down, looking underneath the tables and benches as if trying to find something. He seemed to be studying the floor boards. 

“Severus, what is going on here?” Minerva asked strictly, wanting to understand why this horrible place existed and why it was in the alchemist’s home. 

“This is nothing but an old crime scene I guess you could say,” Severus said simply, ignoring her worry. 

“But.. what are we doing here then? What are you looking for?! We were just supposed to look for his things-” she said, demanding an answer. The man froze as he seemed to have come upon what he was looking for. Near the far back corner of the room, the two wizards noticed the floorboards fused together, just like the doors were previously. Severus pulled out his wand again and Minerva looked over his shoulder wondering what on Earth he was going to do. 

“Peribit!” he casted and Minerva saw a large section of the floorboards get cut out around the mysterious malformation. Severus knelt down and with all of his might heaved the heavy boards away  from where they laid, opening up the wooden foundation.

“Oh my god,” Minerva muttered as she stared into what lied beneath the floorboards. In the dark underlay of the house lied one thing that the Professors of Hogwarts thought that they would never see again. Glistening in even the dark lighting of the back room, laid the ruby encrusted sword of Godric Gryffindor. It’s long silver blade, mightily sharp and strong, layed coated in a rather fine layer of a brown crumbly matte.  _ More blood.  _ Severus leaned down and picked the sword up gently in his hands, staring at its goblin craftsmanship. “Severus, what is it doing in Elric’s house-”

“Minerva,” the man sighed as he handed the sword to her gently. She grasped it, careful not to touch the dried blood that remained on the edge. A thought in the back of her mind told her that it had to do with the stain in the back of the room but she didn’t think she could handle the connection at that point. “Flamel, since last year, has been telling us a few things about his old mentor and Dumbledore sent me to come recover a few relics.”

“A few? But where did Elric get these? The sword of Gryffindor? He’s a Ravenclaw!”

“According to Flamel… it was given to him-”

“By who?!”

“Godric himself,” Severus told her as he bent back down into the foundation of the subterranean house and looted around for something else. Minerva looked back down at the sword in disbelief. How old  _ was _ the Eastern Sage? Severus grabbed a hold of something out of Minerva’s line of sight and pulled it out from the floorboards. He seemed a little dissettled which scared Minerva even more. After all they saw that day, the man didn’t look too disturbed until now. Minerva leaned over his shoulder trying to see what he was holding, her curiousity getting the better of her.

In his hands he held an old iron mask that seemed to be delicately hammered and engraved by an excellent blacksmith. However aside from the handiwork put into it the mask was absolutely frightening in its detail. The face was distorted into one of pain, the mouth opened and down turned as if it were screaming, the eyes open and scared. The mouth, though open, had a funnel in the interior of the mask that would have pried the wearer’s open, silencing them from talking but not from any other ungodly noises the person might make if forced to wear it. Minerva felt a cold shiver run down her back as she noticed that the clasps that held the mask on and in place were strong iron and weren’t made to break however it seemed that they were bashed open as they hung limp and distorted from their original form.

“What… Severus, what is it?” Minerva whispered as the man held it, just a entranced and horrified as she was. Whatever the mask was made for it wasn’t meant to come off. Minerva couldn’t imagine the pain and torture that the person behind it had to live through. Severus flipped it over a few times, still studying the design of it. There was a line of runes around the mask’s interior holding some sort of ancient magic to it Minerva couldn’t figure out. Whatever it was, it had to be dark for what else could have been carved into a device to devastatingly horrid?

“This is what Dumbledore wanted me to pick up,” Severus mumbled absentmindedly as he stared into it. “It is the only thing that can stop the Eastern Sage.”

……….

_ Edward let out a strangled cry as his body, scortched and burnt black, was pulled off the pile of embers that surrounded the pyre. The chains around his wrists and legs were bright orange from baking in the fire's heat and ate away at his skin and cooked him down to his bones. His lung hurt from the smoke and his muscles were charred like a pig left to roast too long. It hurt so bad! With as much pain as he was in he should have been dead. Any normal person would have been but around him was the alchemic crackle of energy as his skin slowly regrew, shedding the burnt meat off like a layer of skin.  _

_ Edward gasped for air as his lungs were healed from inhaling the hot smoke. He felt cool tears of pain and terror fill his eyes and drown out the firey sting of burnt skin on his face. Sobs wracked his chest as the soldier's carried his limp body off of the burning pyre and onto a small stage that was set up for the execution. This was the seventh day he had been pulled onto that stage. It was the tenth failed burning. The number of beheadings were of a higher count. _

_ The soldiers forced him down on his knees but he didn't even have the energy to stand. He pleaded to them with the breaths that escaped his terror filled sobs but his words fell upon deaf ears. A raging crowd swarmed around the small stage, fists pointing angrily at him like he was vermin carrying a plague. Screams roared like the fire that had once consumed him as people taunted him with fear in their own eyes. _

_ "He's a witch! Fire should have killed him!" _

_ "A demon! Immortal!" _

_ "Burn him again!" Edward heard the angered cries call forth. The priests beside him muttered prayers and consulted amongst each other their concerns about the demon they have captured. They listed different forms of torture, blades, fire, and water that were the most effective against witches. Edward shook his head as he constantly denied their accusations.  _

_ "Please, please," he sobbed, tears were running down his face but it seemed little to hold anyone's concern. "I am not a witch. Please. Magic doesn't exist." His mutterings only earned him a hard whack on the head which sent him curled down onto the rough unsanded planks of the execution stage. It only made him cry harder.  _

"Edward, calm down. We are here with you," _ he heard a soft familiar voice call to him in his ear. He tried to turn his head to see who it was but there was no one but the raving priests and executioners around him. _

_ "The Duke wants to see the immortal. He offered us instructions on-" _

"Brother, everything will be alright," _ he heard the unforgetable voice of his brother whisper in his ear drowning out the conspiring priests. A shudder ran down Edward's chest and he tried to choke down his sobs. He quieted down as he listened to the soothing nonsense that his friends were telling him. They were all there, he had to remember. They were all there with him.  _

"Brother, you are never alone, remember that. We will figure out a way to help you, but know you are not alone. _ " Edward didn't have words for his brother. He didn't think he could talk without begging once more for the pain to stop. He simply nodded his head tiredly as his body still shaked with fear. However just as he seemed to be calming down, orders sprang up from the soldiers around him.  _

_ "Get him up. Get the witch over to the block. Keep his head down-" Edward' body was jerked as the soldiers lifted him up. His heart leapt and he pulled and fought against them, no matter how weak he was. A terrified scream rang out through the air as they shoved his head down on a cold iron anvil. A dirty man with a smile filled with too much pleasure loomed over him.  _

_ "Just his size," his scratchy voice hummed and suddenly, blocking his vision was the inside of a thick iron mask. Intricate runes were carved delicately into its iron body. They glowed red with the heat of the fire. It was an iron mask of infamy. Edward pulled and wrythed under the arms that held him down to the stone but they wouldn't budge even as the mask came down closer towards his face.  _

_ “N-no… No!” Edward screamed as he felt his heart beat furiously in his throat. Edward closed his eyes as felt the cool metal slide against his face and the iron bit slide into his mouth allowing him to release one last scream before the mask could silence him forever. He fought but the mask was locked in place around his head, a heavy weight for the end. He sobbed loudly as he shook his head and banged it against the anvil  trying to get it off of him. The people inside him, his brother and his friends who had promised to be there for him were gone. He only heard the shouts and scream from the angry crowd around him, taunting and laughing at him. They blended together into a harmony of rage which quickly filled his heart with a fear that he knew would never leave until the day they finally figured out how to kill him. _

“Edward-”

_ “He can’t die-” _

“Edward-”

_ “To the dungeons!” _

_ “Kill him!" _

“EDWARD” a loud voice shouted and Edward shot up out of bed as he tried to break free from the invisible binds against him. He reached up to his face and frantically began clawing at it to get the cold metal trap off of his head. A hand gripped his wrist trying to stop him but he fought as hard as he could. He needed to get it off.

“Edward, stop… STOP!” the loud voice ordered him and suddenly Edward felt his eyes shoot open and light blinded him in absence of the dark abyss. He blinked the blindness away and he saw the concerned steel face of Mustang kneeling before him. The man was holding onto his trembling wrists, stopping him from clawing his own face off with his hands. The man’s gloves scratched his skin as they were rough from the flint that Edward intertwined in them when he created the body. Edward looked down at his own hands to see that he had drew some blood as his fingers were stained a light crimson color. However there wouldn’t be a scratch or a scar. There never was. 

Edward’s head quickly snapped around as he tried to figure out where he was. Soft white blankets covered him and a middle aged witch hung over him in nursing garb with as concerned face as Mustang’s would have been. He was in the  _ Læcedom Rum _ , the Hospital Ward. It was only a dream. 

He closed his eyes tiredly and collapsed back into bed, a wave of exhaustion escaping him. A thick layer of sweat coated him and he felt like his skin was on fire, as if the flames in his dream were all real. 

“You had a nightmare,” Roy stated flatly, snapping him out of his wonderings.

“Yeah, what gave that away,” Edward retorted breathlessly, trying to sound annoyed but the fear of the dream seemed to have stuck to his voice as it quivered with every shake of his breath. He brought his hands up to his face and saw that they were shaking terribly. He quickly clasped them together as to try and cover up how badly it had shook him. 

“It was about the mask wasn’t it,” the man asked, seeing through his facade easily and Edward silently nodded his head.

“Among other things,” he mumbled vaguely. Roy sighed, knowing full well the tortures he had lived through as, he too, had to live them inside of the stone. There was a gap of silence as the man waited for him to continue, even though he knew that was the last thing he was going to do. It wasn’t something Edward was ever going to talk about. 

“Wh-why is it so hot in here?” Edward complained as he tried to divert the conversation. The witch, who Edward didn’t know the name of, rounded to the other side of the bed and gently placed her hand on his forehead as if to check for a temperature. Edward fought his urge to fight it as he was still squeamish from anything touching his face. 

“That would be the invigoration draught. Feeling warm will be a side effect on many. Your friend here told me you needed it… rather angrily,” the woman said giving the armor her own glare. He guessed that Roy must have forgotten that they didn’t speak old english and tried to tell the nurse what happened. Edward could just see the argument rising now. Though he didn’t know the nurse, he could tell she wasn’t one to lose a fight. “You seemed to have overworked yourself. Those pixies can be mighty nasty. But it seems you did more than a fine job with them. There doesn't seem to be anything left but ash,” she hummed as she seemed to have found nothing else wrong with him aside from him being unconscious for some period of time. Edward groaned as he waved her away, desperately wanting his space. 

“I-I’m fine… I’m fine now. Just… a bit dizzy that’s all. Guess I hit my head,” he mumbled, giving Roy an effective glare. The armor shrugged lightly not seeming to care too much on his opinion of hospitals. The nurse rolled her eyes as she uncorked another bottle of draught and poured a rather large glass of the distasteful drink. Edward grimaced as he saw the thick blue liquid settle in the glass. She handed it to him and he reluctantly took it. 

“This is the last glass, once down you can leave. You needed triple the dose just for it to appear to work,” she said curiously. “You are the easiest patient to heal I ever had, let me tell you. However I don’t want to see you in here ever again.” The woman waved her wand and the blood off of his fingers and face disappeared. He lightly touched his face where he clawed at it. It really did feel like the mask was still on him. It was cold, suffocating. He remembered the long years trapped behind it. He didn’t even know magic like that existed, that was, until it was already on him. 

“Edward,” Mustang scolded him lightly as he felt the armor pull his hand away again.”It’s not on you. It’s gone.” Edward snapped out of his thoughts and noticed that he lightly was scratching his face again. He shivered as he dropped his hand back down to his lap and wrapped his fingers around the potion glass firmly.

“So drink this and I can leave?” he asked sheepishly and the nurse nodded her head. Taking a deep breath, Edward lifted the glass with his shaking hands and downed the nasty contents. Tasted like overly tart raspberries. An instant feeling of vitality filled him and his trembling slowed down ever so slightly. His skin heated up and he felt horribly hot, like he was boiling on a summer day. But he felt awake and the more energy he had the farther away the horrible dream seemed to be. He slowly kicked his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Mustang’s armor clacked forward to help steady him. Though he still felt lopsided and his legs quaked a bit, Edward waved him off. 

“What time is it?” he asked quietly as he lightly moved forward to grab his cloak which was laying on the bed next to his. He picked up the thick fabric to put it on but thought differently and just draped it over his arm. The fire was too hot for that.

“The Great Hall should be open for breakfast, dear. I would go get some if I were you,” the nurse ordered him gently. “That’s not a suggestion.” Edward nodded his head and softly thanked her before heading towards the door. 

“Bastard, you are good for a few more hours I guess?” he asked as he passed the metal suit. It nodded its helmeted head. It has been a while since Edward had placed him in the suit and he guessed he really did over do it if the bonds that kept Mustang in the armor still held strong. Knowing that the man would find him if anything went wrong, Edward continued his silent walk towards the door. Mustang didn’t follow him and he didn’t expect him to. 

_ “Are you going to be alright?” _ Alphonse’s voice asked him, deep worry laced into it. 

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I just need some space for a while.”

……….

“I never saw anyone so scared from a dream before,” Madam Pomfrey said lightly as she stripped the bed that the alchemist was laying on moments before. Roy sighed as he bent over in his huge armored body and started to pick up some of the potion bottles from the bedside table and set them on a tray to be put away. It had been hundreds of years since Edward learned how to forge temporary bodies for the souls in the stone but he still never got used to being in it. He was big, bulky, and he couldn’t  _ feel _ anything. 

“Yeah, well, he just had a lot happen to him,” he muttered as he picked up the tray and took it over towards the potions cabinet. The glasses clinked together as he moved and he was afraid he might break them. 

“I guess with such a… long life he must have seen a great deal of things,” she huffed. With a whip of her wand the dirty blankets sailed off to somewhere unknown and a new freshly folded set came out. She started to make the bed slowly as Mustang set the potions away in the cabinet. “Every scar has a story yet… for a man who can heal from anything he sure has a lot of them.”

“Most of them came before he had the stone,” Mustang answered honestly, knowing that Dumbledore had told the faculty who Edward was. “When he expected to have a short life.” With the stone instantly healing Edward’s body, scars and fatal wounds just didn’t exist. However the few that he did manage to sustain over the thousand years bearing the stone, Edward would never talk to anyone about them. The nurse looked at him curiously, pausing in her housekeeping to raise an eyebrow at his statement. 

“And the not ‘most’ ones?” she asked gently as if not to pry too hard into the boy’s life. Roy sighed as he set the tray down and quietly closed the cabinet. He could tell that the nurse, as tough as she might be, really did care for every patient that entered her ward. With Edward being such a strange case, she must have taken a liking towards him, which was really tough to do. The kid’s rude, tough, and obnoxious behavior mixed with his intimidating presence of being an ancient and genius man, pushed most people away. The fact that his hundred years of self induced isolation destroyed any and all of his social skills also wasn't helping either. Roy could already tell that most of the faculty were wary of him even after one day. However, the nurse wasn’t intimidated, either because she dealt with many rowdy patients before or because she didn’t care who Edward was. She treated him like a normal patient, and seemed to be really concerned for him even though the dangers of his nightmares were long gone. 

“Before Hogwarts was made… we didn’t know much about the relation of magic and the normal world,” Roy told her hesitantly. His voice rang in the hollow metal entrapment he was in as he tried to think of how to explain to her what had really scared Edward so much. The nurse stayed quiet and listened intently. “Most of the dutchies in Europe were fine with the thought of potions and spells but… others… not so much. We just ended up in the wrong one and they… mistaken Edward for a witch.”

“But… isn’t he a wizard?”

“He doesn’t like to be called that,” Roy said a little too quickly Pomfrey was a little taken back.

“Oh, I am sorry-”

“No… no. It’s just… well we didn’t know magic existed at the time. And he was put to trial as a witch yet…” he muttered but his voice trailed off as he remembered the horrible screams his subordinate had let out as the fire ran up his feet and burned his body on the stake. Roy couldn't help him. No matter how hard Edward screamed and cried out, Roy could do nothing to help him as he was stuck inside the stone. The only thing he could give Edward was his voice as a reminder that he wasn't suffering alone, but even that was taken when the villagers had used that damn mask. Masks of infamy were made to humiliate people trapped behind them. The one that Edward bore was made to restrain him. Roy didn’t know how they made it, how they knew it worked. Runic Magic was not something muggles knew how to use but they were on the mask that they forced around Edward’s head. They blocked the tectonic energy from him, much like how Father did to the whole country of Amestris. He couldn't use alchemy with the mask on and because of that he couldn't use the stone. Without it, Edward was alone.

A sudden hand resting on his forearm snapped him out of his memories and he looked up to see the nurse looking sympathetically up at him. Even though he was an expressionless suit of armor, it seemed that Pomfrey knew when he was hurting. Without finishing, she seemed to understand.

"He's safe here now, that is what matters," she told him softly. Roy nodded his head knowing it to be true. Out of everything that Edward went through in his years on this side of the Gate, he was at least still alive and healing. Though the memories of the pain and the torture of the trials and crusades still hung over him like a cloak he was unable to shed, Edward was alive and pushing through. That was what mattered. 

“Yeah, well, if only he knew that,” Roy said clearing his throat, even though he had nothing to clear in the armor. It was just a habit he had even when he was just a soul. “Um… thank you for the  _ miht drenc _ . Edward has a tendency to forget his own limits."

“The Invigoration draught?” the nurse asked as she suddenly snapped out of her stupor. 

“Oh, yeah, that,” Roy answered awkwardly. “Sorry about before I am just so used to speaking the old tongue-”

“Don't worry about that, lad,” the woman chuckled absently. “It doesn't take much to forget-”

“Unfortunately not for everything,” Roy mumbled. He thanked the nurse one last time with a little bow and silently left the ward. He needed to find Edward.

……

Edward stumbled through the Entrance Hall in a daze. He knew he needed to go to the Great Hall for some breakfast but he wasn't quite up to fighting the staring eyes from the faculty. He just needed to be alone for a little bit. 

“ _ Brother, you should talk to someone. It might make you feel better-” _

“I am fine I just… need to get some air,” Edward stuttered as he found that his own feet were leading him straight for the entranceway. The doors were open, beckoning sunshine.

“ _ You know you cant-” _ Alphonse started as Edward tried reaching his hand towards the barrier to test it again. He knew he couldn't go but with Alphonse obvious statement he felt his false hopes crushed. He felt a tightness in his chest and he grabbed his shirt trying to ease the pain he felt there. He tiredly rested his head against the invisible wall to the outside and closed his eyes. A tired defeated chuckle escaped his lips as he felt a cool summer breeze rush past him. Air was able to pass through and yet he was stuck on this side of the doorway. 

“ _ Edward,”  _ Winry’s soft voice said.

“Hmm?” Edward hummed quietly, unable to speak at the moment.

_ “You are still shaken up-” _

“Obviously,” he huffed. “It isn’t something you can easily forget. Even after all these years...”

“ _ Try to talk to someone. Please,” _ her voice of reason spoke.

“I have 50,875,621 people inside me. I am practically a social butterfly,” he sighed tiredly.

“ _ It's not the same now is it?” _ Edward glanced back behind him where the doors to the Great Hall hung open. He heard a bunch of chatter and laughing coming from it. It wasn't like the voices in his dream, it was light hearted, happy. Edward frowned as he felt a tug in his chest from the thought of it. He had that many people inside of him yet he  knew he would never be able to see their faces ever again. They would never be able to interact ever again. Armored bodies were limited to only the stronger souls who would last in them for that long. Without spirits to attach their souls to their bodies, others would just float away into oblivion, back to truth. Some of his friends had learned that the hard way. Even then though, an armored body can only do so much. 

Edward closed his eyes in exhaustion. He didn't feel like he had the energy to move let alone talk. He just wanted to get away.

_ “It’s been ages since you actually talked to anyone. Ever since Sir Porpington died you became kind of a hermit,”  _ Alphonse said lightly though his voice was filled with concern. “ _ You don’t know how to talk to people anymore.” _

“Yeah well, I don't want to,” Edward huffed under his breath as he stood up away from the door. “Why would I talk to them… especially about this? The only people that would understand, the only ones that I care about-”

“ _ Are inside of you,” _ Winry finished with a whisper. Hearing her say it out loud was like a stab into his heart. He closed his mouth for a bit as he took in a deep breath to try and contain himself.

“Yes, or… gone,” he finished stiffly trying to end the conversation. 

“ _ Brother-” _ Alphonse started to say but Edward shook his head massaging the back of his neck tiredly. 

“Just… not now,” he sighed tiredly as he turned back towards the great hall. He stared at the open doors and watched some of the students walk out of it chattering happily to each other. Groaning to himself and massaging a headache away before it would be able to bloom, he started towards the hall for some breakfast that the nurse had ordered him to get. 

He stumbled into the great hall to find that he had much the same effect as the previous morning. Everyone's happy chatter quieted down as their eyes locked on him when he passed. A sudden self consciousness grew over him as he strode down the aisle towards the High table. He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out to ease the nervousness that grew inside of him. Edward quickly filled a plate of food like the previous day, the eyes of everyone in the room on him, and turned to leave with the intent of going back to his room, but before he could get to the door he had a few students walk up to him nervously. They were a couple ravenclaws from his second year class.

“Professor, we… we think we understand the first law-”

“Tell me during class-” Edward sighed as he tried to push past them but they were persistent. 

“But we don’t have class today and… well-”

“We would like to see if we are right-”

“You’re not,” Edward said curtly, making the students frown. The looks on their faces was filled with hurt as their hopes were squashed by the teacher they were trying to impress. Edward looked down at the ground quickly so he didn’t have to see the children’s torn expressions. Nervous and scared as they already were, the two students from his own house stepped back and cleared his path, their hearts broken. Not even looking at them he walked past, out of the great hall and towards the staircase. 

_ “Edward,” _ Winry scolded, her voice thick with disappointment. Edward tuned the rest of her lecture out as he marched through the castle in solitude. Even with the 50,875,621 other people inside of him, he still couldn’t help but feel alone. 

………

Harry watched as Professor Elric exited the Great Hall leaving the two Ravenclaw students in his wake. He was never too close with any ravenclaws let alone those from a grade higher than he was, but he felt some sympathy for the disappointment that they held. The Professor was cold, he was cruel, and he didn’t seem to be the one to give second chances let alone first ones. 

“Reminds me of Snape,” Ron muttered as if he read his mind. “Sulks around all day, muttering nonsense to himself-”

“He does tend to talk to himself a lot, doesn’t he?” Hermione asked as if she was suddenly aware of it. “I saw him just outside the great Hall when I was coming in. He looked… upset-””

“Not the word I would have used,” Ron complained just to earn a stab in the side. He rubbed his ribs in pain and glared at the offender. “I am just saying, he’s probably so rude he offended himself. He didn’t even give them a chance. How are we supposed to learn alchemy if he doesn’t even let us try to answer the three laws? I really don’t know how we are supposed to do this.”

“I was looking into the library for some books to try and figure them out but there is just not enough out there on alchemy-”

“Why don’t you use the one you had before. He took it from you. He might just be hiding the answers so he doesn’t have to teach us.”

“I did actually but… I think he was right. That alchemy seemed wrong. It required wand work and what the Professor did yesterday....”

“He didn’t even have a wand he just claps his hands,” Harry said remembering the previous evening in Lockhart’s classroom when the pixies were wreaking havoc everywhere. Lockhart proved how incompetent he was as a teacher even more than he already did. Hermione still thought that it was all for ‘hands on experience’. However they didn’t know what they were doing, neither did Lockhart it seemed. And what came to their actual fright was the fact that the last teacher left in the room didn’t even have a wand. 

“How can you be a wizard and not even have a wand?” Ron announced loudly. 

“Because he’s not a wizard,” a rough voice said behind them. The three gryffindors spun around in their seats and stared wide eyed at the black suit of armor that their professor had created to defeat the pixies. Though for being a large clunky suit of armor, it moved near silently. Harry had heard of magic being able to animate suits of armor, but he never actually had a conversation with one. They weren’t conscious. They didn’t have a voice, but this one did. Their Professor was able to create and give life to a suite of armor all without a wand. That was impossible. 

“You-You’re,” Ron stumbled as he tried to speak in the presence of the intimidating armor. 

“Colonel Roy Mustang,” the voice in the armor rang out, “And I would respect it if you didn’t talk behind my subordinate’s back. He has it hard enough as it is.” The three of them looked at each other guiltily. They weren’t expecting the armored man to overhear them. However instead of scolding them farther the man  seemed distracted. He looked around the Great Hall as if searching for something. “You were talking about Elric. You must have seen him. Where did he go?” Harry pointed towards the door and the Colonel looked over his shoulder as if expecting to see the professor standing there. Seeing as that wasn’t the case he let out a long sigh and thanked the three of them. He turned to leave and his armor clanked with him. 

“Wait… um… Mr. Mustang what do you mean that the Professor isn’t a wizard? There are muggle wards everywhere, if he wasn’t a wizard-” Hermione started but the black armor froze and the red glowing eyes of it glared back at her.

“He just doesn’t like to be called that. I would hate for you to figure out why,” the armor said quickly. “Now if you will excuse me I need to find your teacher.” The three of the watched the strange suit of armor stride out of the room with strict steps. After the man was gone Hermione leaned in, hoping that no unexpected visitors would pop into their conversation.

“So he’s a wizard he just doesn’t want to be?” she asked them curiously. 

“Who doesn’t want to be a wizard?” Harry asked innocently. Magic was his salvation from the Dursleys and boring normal life. It was wondrous and amazing. He couldn’t imagine anyone not wanting any part of it. 

“I don’t like that guy,” Ron muttered as he glanced back towards the door where the armor disappears. “To be able to do all of that… without magic? Something has to be going on-”

“Creation of conscious life by magic is physically impossible. I highly doubt Alchemy is able to do it too-” Hermione mumbled as she started to think. 

“But the professor just did it! The result was standing right in front of you-”

“How isn’t it possible? We don’t know anything about alchemy yet,” Harry asked cutting off Ron’s outbursts. 

“Well,” Hermione started as she tried to process all of her thoughts. “It just doesn’t sound equivalent now does it?”

…….

Edward sat in the empty window of the middle courtyard with his breakfast plate in lap and his legs dangling over the edge, toeing the green grass of late summer. The courtyard was the only place in the foundation of the entire castle where he could be outside for even a short time. It was the small length of grass trapped between the four walls of the castle with a small roofed walkway overhead incase it rained. It was small, cramped, and nearly packed with students all the time which was why he never went there. But being so early in the morning, Edward guessed that the students had better things to do than to sit in the courtyard and jabber on about pointless nonsense. Frankly he was quite relieved. Though it was practically a dog pen that the headmaster gave him for some run space, like an obedient puppy he took it. The feeling of being trapped was so overwhelming him he just needed to get outside, even if he still was surrounded by four walls. Though it eased his panic a bit, Edward still found his hand twitching to reach up and scratched his face every now and then. He wished more than anything just to leave the stupid magic castle and to get away from all of the horrible memories but he couldn’t. He was a prisoner though Dumbledore refused to call him that.

Edward sighed as he poked at his food, not really eating it, but taking in the color of the well kept grass. The sun wasn’t up high enough to cast light past the walls and into the courtyard so it was ridden with shadows. Even the wind couldn’t get into the small green. It was just a mimic of freedom, a false hope. Edward could feel the souls inside of him try to comfort him. Winry and Alphonse were probably worried about him, but he tuned them out, blocking himself off from the concern of the stone. He just needed time, but that seemed to be the only thing he really had left. 

Taking a small unsatisfactory bite of his pumpkin bread, Edward gaze out across the yard to see a figure moving in the opposite walkway. At first he thought it to be a student, the first in a swarm of many to come and he got up on his feet to leave but stopped. As he looked closer to the figure he noticed that it was white, pale white, and nearly transparent. He felt his heart skip a beat when he realised it was a ghost. The woman’s hair flowed down to her waist and her long dress moved effortlessly in her pale appearance. His heart beated slow and hard in his chest as he stared at the figure floating across the way.

_ It can't be _ , he thought in shock as the woman's appearance was all too familiar. The sharp look in her eye, the tall purposeful strides.  _ It just can't be her. _ As the ghost rounded the corner gracefully Edward found his heart freezing up as he stared into the face of his old professor.

“Professor Ravenclaw!” Edward shouted out suddenly in fright of himself. He was quite literally staring at a ghost from his past. Though he knew the poor woman to be long gone, just seeing her was a shock to the heart. Having not seemed to hear him, Edward set his plate down and sped down the walkway towards her. “Professor Ravenclaw, wait! Please!” he begged her and the apparition halted for a fraction of a minute just so that he could catch up.

“I am not who you think I am,” the soft voice of the ghost said stiffly, though it wasn’t cold at all. Edward stopped to catch his breath and listened to her. She turned slightly and Edward stared as he got a better look at the woman he was chasing. His heart dropped in dismay as he realised that it wasn’t his old professor, the one person who really helped him in the first few years he had landed in this crazy and miserable world. 

“Oh,” Edward mumbled to himself as he straightened out, his shoulders still slumped in defeat. “Hello Helena.”

“Hello Paracelsus,” the founder's daughter replied. She looked so similar to her mother Edward unfortunately mistook her but he knew that they couldn't have been any more different. “You don’t look well.”

“Um… yeah… well that happens to people-”

“Not to you,” she said flatly, her voice smooth and her eyes piercing Edward glared at the woman. He remembered her at hogwarts when she was first born. She was intelligent, everything a ravenclaw should be, but she was extremely jealous. Edward saw the way she looked at her mother’s diadem when she grew older. He finished his schooling and then was just studying under the professor for years as an intern. He watched Helena grow up and she watched him as he didn’t. He remembered the day that she found out about the stone. He refused to teach her and turned to a fight of the ages, though unheard of by many. It was only when she ran away that the fighting ceased. It was when Rowena died of heartbreak when it began again ten fold. 

“You could have saved her, you know. Healed her,” Helena started. Edward felt his chest tighten up as he remembered the death at the bedside of the old woman. It was his first encounter with the shock of not aging; to watch all of your friends die while you stay the same. Hohenheim had told him about the burden before the promised day, but before Rowena Ravenclaw, he didn’t know how much of an impact it had. “Instead,” the young woman continued, “you keep it all to yourself, not even sharing the knowledge that makes you great-”

“It doesn’t make me great!” Edward scolded her. “Your mother died of a broken heart. She couldn’t stand being without you and yet you stayed away-”

“Ha! You can’t die of a broken heart! Though I bet, to you, it sure feels like it sometimes,” Helena started out mocking but her voice went soft as Edward felt his chest tighten with her words. He looked down in shame. He gripped the collar of his coat tightly as if it was suffocating him. 

“Yes,” he whispered softly and Helena looked down on him in pity, eyes full of sorrow. Edward shook his head, trying to beat the intruding thoughts away. “Why are you here Helena, what do you want?”

“I wanted to talk to you about your class-”

“Yes, it’s what you wanted all of these years right? For me to actually teach alchemy-”

“No,” the woman cut in. “You aren’t teaching alchemy. You are just pretending to. I see how you ran your classes and talked to your students.”

“When they understand the three laws I will teach them in full but they haven’t done that yet-”

“They try and you insult them without giving them a chance. I watched you in class. You couldn’t have been any worse. You pushed the students away and never gave them right answers to their questions. You don’t give them a chance like those two ravenclaws.”

“They don’t have the right answer they couldn’t-”

“Paracelsus,” Helena scolded him, cutting him off. “One thing you have lost sight of was the purpose of the house of Ravenclaw-”

“It’s for the wise, knowledgeable,”Edward muttered starting to recited the house summary. 

“Wrong! Don’t you remember my mother at all?” 

“Of course I do! Along with the Ambrosius family she was the one who helped me get away from that wretched dutchy. I couldn’t forget her-”

“And yet you have!” she yelled at him. “My mother fought for you to stay in the school not because you had a knowledgeable mind but because you had the passion to learn. She taught you because you held the essence of the Ravenclaw house in you. It isn’t about being smart it's about understanding the power of learning. How could you forget that?”

“I haven’t forgotten that I just don’t care anymore!” Edward retorted.  If the ghost could have blushed in anger she would have but unfortunately spirits were just images of the past and had no physical body. Helena, though have aged to a nice young woman, glared and pouted at him like a child, cheeks puffed ever so slightly turning a dark silver from her ghostly flush. Edward remembered that face from when Rowena was tutoring him and she wasn’t allowed to join in. He closed his eyes in aggravation and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a hot breath of air. “I don’t mean that. I just… I-”

“In the stone’s youth you have become a bitter old man. Teach your students like they are your peers. They have the will to learn. Don’t deny them any longer,” she ordered him.

“I don’t want to teach alchemy. Even if they do want to learn…,” Edward muttered. “You know I didn’t choose to do this. I didn’t choose any of this-”

“And so your life continues on a path that isn’t your own,” Helena sighed as she stared at him, eyes filled with pity. “We never choose anything we just have to make the best of what we got. Living with the stone has made you forget how to live as a person. You want so little but only what you can’t have. It has made you angry and you push the very things away that might just make being here all the better-”

“And that is?” Edward asked impatiently. Helena looked absolutely disappointed that he hadn’t figured it out yet. She shook her head in dismay and simply said.

“People.” Edward frowned as Helena repeated what Alphonse and Winry were trying to tell him earlier. 

“But how are people supposed to help if they just keep finding new ways to torture me-”

“Remember you old fool,” Helena said sharply, mimicking her mother’s strict voice that she used to use all the time in his tutoring sessions when he was in Hogwarts. He shut his mouth quickly as she continued. “You don’t get to choose what happens to you. You just make the best of what you have. Now teach your class and help the school or else I will see to it that you remember where you were before Hogwarts helped you.”

“I don’t think I need your help with that,” Edward hissed coldly under his breath as he remembered his overhanging nightmare he had in the hospital wing and Helena just smirked after her threat. 

“I know, but I sure can make it a lot worse,” she said before she spun around and glided off to wherever her ghostly form was heading previously. Edward watched her as she disappeared out of the courtyard and her body’s illuminescence faded into the depths of the castle. She reminded him so much of her mother and yet she was hell to him. Edward muttered some ungodly curses under his breath as he marched back to where he had left his half eaten breakfast plate. He picked it up and flopped back down in the crook he had wedged himself in before. 

“You know, sometimes I wish I could have strangled her,” Edward growled as he angrily took a few bites of his breakfast. 

“ _ Brother, she’s… already dead,” _ Alphonse muttered, stating the obvious. 

“Looks like someone beat me to it-”

_ “Edward!” _ Winry gasped at him. 

“I am joking,” he grumbled flatly. “She’s just…”

“ _ Right when you are wrong and wrong when you are right, _ ” Winry answered for him. Edward nodded his head just for Winry’s satisfaction.  _ “That’s just how women work _ ,” she smirked. 

“Of course it is,” he muttered in disbelief. 

“ _ But… Helena is right, Edward. Just try to teach your class-” _

“I just-” Edward started to retort but cut himself off. “I don’t know if I can.”

_ “Brother, you have been learning alchemy your entire life,” _ Alphonse stated. “ _ You can do this.” _

“I know but what if… what if-”

“ _ It won’t happen again, Edward. Flamel was a wicked man. You are working with children. They aren’t like him.” _ Edward groaned as he massaged his brow. Everything from the past few days was so overbearing to him it was driving him insane. If he could he would be back in his home finishing his research, hopefully finding a way back home. Even thinking about Amestris just made him home sick, giving him a headache upon the many he already had. However as he had to keep reminding himself, he couldn’t leave. He was trapped in the stone castle, unable to even go outside for a walk. It was too much like back then. Edward suddenly felt a hand grab his wrist and pull it away. He looked up to see the clanking armor of Roy standing next to him, concern flowing through his soul fire eyes. Edward glanced down at his hands and realised that he must have started scratching his face again. How long was this nightmare going to hang over him?

“Edward, your classes are starting,” Roy said sternly, avoiding the obvious questions that were floating through his head. Edward knew that he just wanted to ask if he was alright, tell him to go talk to someone, but he knew that Edward wouldn’t listen.

“I hate castles,” Edward muttered as he got up from where he was sitting and made his way towards the Dark Arts tower, the hollow suit of armor following behind him. 


	4. The Remedy

 

**_Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage_ **

Chapter 4

The Remedy

 

Edward, after doing the unfortunate deed of returning Roy back to the stone, walked into his classroom to see the students quietly sitting down, mouths shut, faces front. They looked solemnly obedient, something that only absolute hatred for the class could bring. 

_ “Brother, no one should hate alchemy,” _ Alphonse said, his fear and disappointment ringing off of his ears. Edward frowned and let out a sigh as he walked over to his desk and opened the drawers. After searching through his desk for a short time, Edward pulled out a huge scroll of parchment, all that he had, and a quill and ink well that the staff had provided him for teaching purposes. He set them on the desk with a loud thump and looked up at the class. 

“You all figured out the Law of Equivalent Exchange and the Law of Polarity pretty quickly. It is only the second class but did any of you figure out the First Law yet?” Edward asked them. The class was silent and they all looked down at their desks as they realised just how hard their class was going to be. None of them chose this class, not even the teacher, so they were stuck with it and might as well make the best of it. Letting out a heavy breath of air Edward picked up his supplies and motioned for the class to follow him. They all got up and grabbed their book bags and wands before running out after him. Edward lead his class down the hall and towards the staircase, his students trailing behind him. 

“Professor, where are we going?” Edward heard the young Granger ask him. 

“To the library for some… inspiration. You are going to have to figure out the first law some time or another so I might as well baby you and give you resources during your class time,” Edward said swiftly as they reached the first floor. “And as you do that, I am going to take my time to write you a proper textbook.”

“A textbook? Really?” 

Edward nodded his head. “Unfortunately someone changed my mind on the matter. I guess teaching you the way my teacher taught us isn’t going to work in this day and age. But don't expect much. I haven't written a book before in my life.”

“How did your teacher help you understand the First Law?” Ron Weasley asked curiously. 

“She threw me and my brother into the woods for a month with a knife and nothing else,” Edward stated flatly, a fond smirk playing over his face as he remembered his childhood so many hundreds of years ago. Even though he lived many years older than he expected, his old life seemed to have happened just yesterday. The wonderful memories of Amestris, even the bad ones seemed to strike a homesickness in him. He shook his head trying to dash his thought, not wanting to bring up any sad feelings when he was still upset from that morning. He glanced down to see his student’s absolutely horrified face as they listened to his story of his alchemy lessons. “Don’t worry. There are no abandoned islands around here and I don’t think your other teachers would like it very much if you skipped class or got eaten by a cannibal. We will just stick to the library.”

He let his class spread out amongst the tables in the library to search around for their own research materials. They all asked him what genre of books were the best to look in. 

“You can find the first law in almost any book you read if you know what you are looking for however, I would stick to natural or spiritual texts if I were you. Though religion seems a jumbled mess, it has a sense of equality to it for the most part,” Edward told them. “Ancient runes are also good. You wizards seemed to have taken  few symbols of alchemy and incorporated it into your magic over the years. It’s really one of the few forms of magic I like. I will be over here if you have questions, but no, I will not give you the answer. Find it yourself.” He said as he pointed to a large table near a select section of shelves. The students whispered amongst themselves as they scattered around the library in search of their answer while Edward gratefully took his seat in silence. He unraveled his parchment and took his quill out to begin writing. Edward never wrote a textbook before however he understood alchemy far better than anyone else in the universe, even his own father who had spread the art around the globe after Xerxes. He could write a simple text book for beginners within a few days. Surely he could spend class time and he weekend making it. 

Alphonse advised him on what to put in it, Hohenheim helped him with his wording, and Edward denied all of Roy’s advise as it was narrow mindedly in the concept of fire. A few of his students came up to guess the first law during this time but unfortunately Edward had to send them all back to the drawing board. Some of the students, in hopes of asking a few irrelevant questions, took up seats around him as they read their random books for answers. Unfortunately for him it was the prophecy kid and his friends. Edward had heard that they were asking questions about him and Roy told him about how the three gryffindors seemed to be talking behind his back. After hearing that, they were really the last few people that Edward wanted to sit next to. 

_ “Brother, you should talk to them. Socialize-” _ Alphonse urged. 

“Not with them,” Edward hissed back under his breath as he finished up some of his runes on a basic transmutation circle. However, even though he was quiet the kids next to him seemed to have been listening and it caught their rather easily amused curiosity. 

“Professor,” Ron started as he looked up from a book he obviously wasn’t interested in. Edward glanced up from his work, not enthused to have been disrupted. 

“Yes?” he sighed, angry that Alphonse led him to conversing. He could just feel the smug grin on his brother’s face. 

“Why do you talk to yourself?” the kid asked flatly.

“I don’t talk to myself,” Edward stated the truth flatly hoping to end the conversation. His answer just seemed to confuse the student but there was no way he was elaborating. 

“What language do you talk in then?” Hermione picked up, seeing to just want to pry into anything about him.

“English,” he replied curtly. 

“That’s not english,” Ron retorted dumbly and Edward glared at him, slightly insulted. 

“It is english, just not modern english. It is known as Anglo-Saxon or Amestrian as I like to call it but you will never hear that anywhere but from me,” Edward sighed tiredly. 

“How old are you?” Potter exclaimed.

“Older than you.”

“Professor, you can’t just tell us you know an ancient language and not tell us how old you are-” Hermione complained.

“Ancient history ended in the 7th century. Amestrian is not an ancient language. For all you know I could have just learned it like any well known historian would,” Edward replied snidely as he dipped his quill again to start on a new paragraph.

“Professor McGonagall-”

“Doesn’t know a thing about me so I would appreciate it if you would stop asking other people about my life. I don’t like to talk about it,” Edward growled, cutting Potter off. He glared at all of them hoping to send them back to their books. They hesitantly picked up the texts for a short while and Edward had some peace and quiet for just a few moments, letting him pick up his work again. However it didn’t last long at all. 

“Professor-”

“Focus on your work.”

“But professor, we just wanted to ask you….,” Hermione started but went quiet as of she was thinking about something. After a little bit Edward looked up rather annoyed and glared at her. 

“Ask what?” he pressed impatiently. 

“How did  _ you _ figure out the first law of alchemy?” she questioned, getting back on topic with the class. Edward thought about it for a couple seconds and then smirked. He could never forget his and his brothers first step into alchemy. It was a hard and unforgettable one, but it just made it all that much more purposeful. 

“As I said before, my teacher taught us the laws a lot differently than I am teaching you,” he sighed, a small gleam of a smile on his face as he reminisced his past. It was like a daydream, thinking about Amestris. “We were little and hadn’t figured out how to really get enough food to survive on the island yet so we were starving. I just remember thinking of what would happen if I died there on that island.”

“That’s horribly sad thing to think about,” Hermione answered which just made Edward smile even more. 

“That’s what I thought too. You’re on the right track now, just set yourself in the right direction,” Edward said as he quickly rolled up his parchment with the ringing of the clock as it struck the hour. “Class dismissed,” he announced as he picked up his things to leave the class to their own devices before they could swarm him with any more questions.  For a second there he thought he felt a light spark of pride in him as he heard Hermione answer him. She sounded so much like he did before the truth of the first law rang into him. If she was anything like he and Alphonse were like, she would get it. Maybe the class wasn’t a lost cause. 

_ “And I thought you didn’t want to teach,” _ Alphonse teased light heartedly. 

“I don’t,” Edward retorted stiffly. 

……..

Edward yawned as he slumped over his desk and popped open his pocket watch to check the time. It was late and he had spent nearly the entire evening in his classroom writing that damn textbook. He was only a quarter of the way through what he wanted to do that day but exhaustion was getting to him. Roy warned him not to push himself especially after what had happened that morning and for once Edward was willing to take his advise. He couldn’t keep his eyes open much longer. Like a tired trunk man Edward got up from his desk and packed away all of his things for another day and started down the corridor towards his chambers. Nothing sounded better than a nice shower and a good rest. 

_ “You did good today,” _ Winry’s voice sounded out. Edward could almost see her gentle smile with the sweet tone in her voice. He smirked lightly, too tired for much else. 

“They will get their book by next week. I will just have to ask one of the other teachers to use a copying charm on it. There is no way I am writing a hundred text books by hand,” Edward stated flatly. There was a gentle ease that seemed to flow through him as the souls inside the stone treasured the small step Edward took for his students. It was a good change, and though Edward wanted to argue otherwise, fearing the future and what the wizards might do, he had to admit that it felt nice. He hadn’t felt that way in ages, like a weight lifted off his shoulders. Maybe Helena was right. Edward scoffed at the thought of him actually agreeing with that bratty child for once.

“Edward!” a voice suddenly rang out and he groaned to himself, the good feeling in the back of his mind evaporating to nothing as the Dark Arts professor raced down the corridor towards him. “Edward! Just the man I wanted to see!” Gilderoy’s jolly voice sang. Edward glared at the man with all of his might but he was oblivious to the amount of loathing he was throwing his way. Instead of repealing, the idiot wrapped his arm around his shoulder and started to walk with him down the hallway. “I was afraid I wouldn’t catch you this late. I was just checking up on some of my fan mail and lost track of time. I hope those pixies weren’t too hard on you. I knew you could handle them. I just wanted to test my new assistant, let you show what you were worth-”

“What do you want?” Edward growled as he pried the man’s arm from around his shoulder and ducked away from its hold. 

“Well, jumping right to the point now aren’t we?” he chuckled lightly. “Well, I was wondering if you would need any help covering your classes over the next few days-”

“Why would I need-”

“With Minerva and Snape off on a trip this early in the year I had to cover for a few of their classes. They just got back this evening but I was wondering if you would need me to-”

“A trip?” Edward questioned. “Where did they go?” He found it odd that not one but two teachers, heads of houses nonetheless, were each going on a trip together on the second day of school. He couldn’t imagine a reason why they would both have to leave or one that Albus would permit.

“Siberia apparently, but let me say that is no place for the likes of you! I was there once with the  _ Order of Air Voyagers for Intrepid Wizards _ . Flew all the way to Ouagadougou on a broom. Mighty chilly. I don’t think you are up for anything like that yet! Paris seems more your style. Nice city sites, wonderful people. If you were to take a trip I would go there! And don’t worry about your classes, my dear alchemist, I can hold down the fort! I have been giving the students some of my expertise-” Edward tuned him out as soon as he heard the man list an African city claiming it to have been in northern Asia. Why on earth did they go to Siberia? Even in the wizarding world the far northern depths of Siberia were empty of any excitement. Anything farther than Norilsk was mostly cold barren taiga. Edward felt a nagging sensation in the back of his mind that started out as a small itch and then seemed to slap him in the face.  _ He lived in Siberia.  _ He never really called it a home because he never wanted to stay. He wanted to go back to Amestris and forget everything about this side of the gate. However, a person needs a home to at least sleep in and not liking the intruding wizarding population or the persecuting muggles, he lived as far away from them as he physically could for a reasonable amount of time. He made himself comfortable as he researched a way home, that was until Flamel entered his life. 

Edward found his hands clenching shut as one of them wrapped around Gilderoy’s robes, dragging him down to his level and effectively shutting his mouth. 

“You said they came back,” Edward hissed, his burning eyes boring into him, “Where are they now?” The man was slightly flustered from Edward’s aggressiveness but he managed to stutter out an answer. 

“P-probably back in their chambers! It is late after all. They probably went to bed, like we should be doing now!” he smiled fearfully. “I-I thought you would have known. They stopped by your room for a little bit-” Edward dropped Lockhart hearing that and stormed down the corridor, his feet gliding at wicked pace. Gilderoy called after him but did not follow as Edward ran past the one eyed witch statue and to his chamber portrait. It was an absolutely ugly picture of a squat man sitting on an even squatter horse. Edward was hoping to remove the thing but he knew that if he did he wouldn’t be able to get into his chambers. He would have to ask Dumbledore for a replacement at least, but that was for another time. 

He ripped the portrait open and Edward marched in, a sense of unease strangely filling him. Nothing seemed out of place, though that was hard when his room was barren to begin with, but as he moved into the room, he heard it. Music. Edward looked up from where his mind was preoccupied to see a record player sitting on the window sill of the room playing light swing from an earlier part of this current century. His room was supposed to be empty, barren of all life. He didn’t bring anything from home when he was trapped there, why in the world was there a record player? Edward scooted his way across the room towards where the old thing was spinning about. There was a box of records beside it waiting to be put away and he picked it up, sifting through the old things. He felt his heart stutter as it beated faster upon his realisation that those were  _ his _ . Those were his records from his house. 

“ _ Brother… what’s going on?” _ Alphonse asked just as confused as he was. Edward dropped the box and started around his room. Journals on shelves, his, papers on the desk, his, cup for tea, his. Edward flung open his wardrobe to see his own clothes hanging in there. Instead of being happy that he had some of his own stuff now in his chambers Edward grew absolutely infuriated. 

“ALBUS!” he raged as he dropped his things and burst out of his chamber portrait. He nearly ran all the way through the castle towards the man’s office, flinging curses out of his mouth like it was the only language he learned. 

“ _ Brother, they were trying to do something nice. It might not even have been them!” _ Alphonse tried to reason. 

“How did they find it? How did they know where we lived? There were wards! Everything! Hell I haven’t even been there since the Second World War!” Edward raged as he clapped his hands together and slammed them to the griffin gargoyle that guarded the man’s office. It disintegrated in a rather rough explosion and the entire castle seemed to shake in its wake, but he stood firm. Edward marched through the thick cloud of rubble and up the stairs, kicking down the door of the Headmaster’s office. He didn’t care that the Headmaster seemed to be in a meeting with a few other people. He didn’t care that they looked at him as if he were a monster from hell. He was furious and glad that people knew it. 

“Hagrid,” the headmaster’s voice said calmly, eyes carefully watching Edward as he made his way up to the desk. “Just wait a couple moments we can continue this later-”

“But the chickens-”

“Hagrid-” the man started, warningly this time, but Edward pushed past the large man as he was sent out the door to wait and slammed his hands on the desk, hearing the old wood groan beneath the force. 

“How the fuck did you get into my house,” Edward seethed. His voice was so quiet yet his anger sounded off like cattle in a stampede. “What did you take? What were you after?!” he asked, growing louder the more questions he demanded answers to. “You had no right to be there!”

“Master Elric,” the headmaster said calmly, “I have every right to be there. As I have come to realise, you have no written ownership of any house, you have no history of paying taxes-”

“Are you the fucking tax collector now?”

“No but it is my duty to make sure my professors are living… good lives, I guess you should say. And since you have no written ownership of that house-”

“Because I made it myself!-”

“I technically wasn’t trespassing.”

“How did you even find it? I have wards up, everything. No one knows where I live except…,” Edward dropped his head into his hands and shook it in disbelief. Why did everything have to wrap around to that man?

“We addressed our concerns to Flamel and he showed us where it was a long while ago. We thought that it might have made you more comfortable to have some homely things here in Hogwarts during your stay.”

“A long while ago?” Edward asked, hearing Dumbledore's slip up. “How long were you following me? I have only been here for a few days!”

“Long enough,” Dumbledore admitted. “With Voldemort wanting the stone, we have been worried he might have gone after you.”

“So you are protecting me now? OH! What a lovely surprise. So all of this, stalking, trapping, and stealing, has all just been to  _ protect _ me?” Edward said the sarcasm dripping from his words like venom. He laughed harshly at the headmaster. “I am so thankful. Wow, for a second there I thought you were only trying to use me to protect that Potter kid.” The headmaster narrowed his eyes and Edward knew he struck a chord with him. He was right. “When will you learn that there are worse things out there than a lunatic wizard who likes the self proclaimed title of 'dark lord'?”

“It just takes one small start, Master Elric, to turn into something even worse than your years could imagine,” Dumbledore said darkly. Edward closed his mouth, glaring at the man in pure hatred. 

“I have seen a lot, my imagination is quite vast,” he growled. 

“But even so, you still get surprised every now and then,” Albus replied with a sharp glint in his eyes. 

“What-did-you-take?” Edward breathed slowly, annunciating the words as if to make the man understand him. He didn’t want to go through these run around conversations with him. He wanted to know what he was up to. “You already have me hung up on so many strings just for your stupid mission, Albus. At least tell me what they are, or what you want me for. It might be a simple sacrifice to you for a man that has limitless time on this earth to give just a fraction of it for humanity, but it is a whole lot more complicated than that.”

“I know, Edward,” the old wizard said, using his first name for once instead of that proper gaudy title. His voice sounded old and tired. The man got up from his chair and rounded the desk he was sitting at, waving his wand at the cracked wood where Edward had hit it earlier. It mended itself and appeared that nothing had happened. “I know this is  tough game to play, and I know you don’t like it. But I promise that everything will turn out right for you by the end of this year. It is just a year, so please make the best of it.”

“Just tell me what you took. I don’t want this backwards talk.”

“It was all Minerva’s idea,” he admitted. “She saw you the other evening rather upset. It is a hard transition for you. You lived so long by yourself, Edward, we thought it best just to make you comfortable. It was honestly, from the concern of the faculty, that we made this trip for you. We hope that you would have found it more comfortable here if you had some of your old things,” Albus told him. Edward closed his mouth as he listened to him explain. He felt the anger rush out of him as he remembered the other evening when the transfigurations professor had walked in on him talking to his brother. Was she really that worried for him? He shook his head. People don’t get worried for him. It just didn’t happen, especially not from wizards. 

“ _ Is it that hard to believe that people could care about you?” _ he heard the soft voice of Winry question. It held a tinge of sadness to it and Edward could feel that emotion seep into his heart. The fact was, it was hard to believe. What had all of these years done to him that he couldn’t even imagine someone outside of the stone being worried for his well being? He could hear Helena’s voice scolding him earlier. Yet again, she was right.

“With him it has to be more,” Edward argued in old tongue that he knew the headmaster couldn’t understand. “There is always more. It can’t be that simple.”

_ “We know,” _ Mustang’s deep voice rang, “ _ But for the sake of this evening, why not enlighten in the fact that it could be.” _

“You don’t sound like the Mustang I know at all,” Edward grumbled under his breath at the man. 

“ _ Whatever Albus took, it doesn’t matter because you are still stuck here. Let it be for a little while. You can find it later.” _ Edward looked at Dumbledore who was waiting patiently there for his answer. He knew that the headmaster had more up his sleeve than he was letting on. He knew that he took something from his house that wasn’t accounted for. However, he also had a feeling that Minerva wasn’t the type of person for spy worthy investigations. She was strict, very conservative, but he didn’t think it was like her to steal for the sake of holding something over him. At least some of what Albus had to say was true. Roy was right. Being stuck there for a year, it didn’t matter much if he berated Albus for his strings, he was still stuck there. 

“Fine,” Edward hissed as he glared at the headmaster. “But don’t imagine I will be leaving here without whatever you took.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” the man said, honesty dripping from his voice making Edward know it was all a trick. He wondered just what the man had planned. He wondered what he stole. But but for the simplicity of the evening, he turned and he left the office in peace. It has been so long since he felt someone care for him, even if it could all have been a lie. His stone heart seemed to crack a little bit with the feeling and Edward was very confused with this sensation. For now, at least, maybe it was better just to imagine that one of the professors cared for him at all.

………..


	5. Old Faces

**_Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage_ **

Chapter 5

Old Faces

 

The next day Edward found himself walking down near the courtyard for a light stroll, his heart buzzing to get outside but then his mind knowing he couldn’t. The courtyard was filled with students, each of which gave them their own wary glances before continuing on their own way across the grass. Edward kept to the covered walkway because of this. As he made a few laps around the small cage, he found himself heading inside, his hopes of freedom severely dampened with a sigh. He passed down through the corridors, trying to free his mind from the stone walls. He remembered the castle all of those long years ago, when the walls stood new and the first generation of wizards had yet to graduate from it. He walked by the classrooms, naming off the old professors in his head and which ones helped and which ones just confused him all the more about magic. It took him forever to try and understand the art and now, having spent all that time understanding it, he didn’t use it. 

_ “Brother,” _ Alphonse called to him quietly.

“Hmm,” he acknowledged half heartedly. 

“ _ It isn’t so bad here.” _

“I know,” he muttered sadly as he passed a statue of a later professor he never knew. A lot has happened between when he was here last. Though Edward resented coming back, he knew that there was  _ some _ good that came out of Hogwarts. It just wasn’t a lot. Edward passed a classroom door remembering how Professor Gryffindor used to teach transfigurations there. He was damn good at it but often scolded Edward for not wanting to partake in the magic. He didn’t talk to Professor Gryffindor enough but he remembered the one act of kindness the man gave him before he left. It, quite frankly, save his life. 

Edward poked his head into the classroom just for a second of reminiscing. It stood empty as there was no class in session that period. Edward walked in and looked up at the high ceiling and the tall windows that opened to the middle courtyard. Though his least favorite subject, he had to admit, it was one of his favorite classrooms. He used to sit at his desks and just stare out of the windows at the green grass, day dreaming about the hills of Resembool. He chuckled lightly. People always told him that homesickness would go away with time. It was quite the opposite. The more he spent away from Amestris, the stronger his desire became to return. 

“Mr. Elric? What in the world are you doing in here?” he heard a curious voice behind him. Edward spun around to see the new transfigurations professor, Minerva McGonagall, standing there, a couple scrolls of parchment in her hand. A sudden flush spread over his face as he realised he was caught wandering around in someone else’s classroom. 

“Uh… umm, nothing. I was just… I was just… leaving,” he muttered as he made towards the door. She gave him a puzzled look as he passed. 

“You know there is nothing wrong with just wanting to talk, Mr. Elric,” she said as he reached for the door. Edward found himself stopping, quite unsure of what made him do that. He glanced behind him to see the woman giving him a concerned look.  “I am going to make some tea, none of that divinations stuff either. You can join me or not, but I believe you look like you need a drink,” the woman scoffed lightly which made Edward smile just a little bit. It looked like she held the same opinion of divinations as he did. Contemplating for just a split second, Edward found himself following the professor into the classroom. She pulled out a small tea pot and started making a couple cups. In less than a minute Edward found himself sitting across from her at her desk holding a steaming cup in his hands. He stared at the steam, entranced as it danced across the surface of the water and flittered away into the air. 

“Mr. Elric-”

“Edward,” he interrupted quickly. She looked a little taken back. He knew that the faculty knew that he was the Eastern Sage but it seemed that they didn’t know he was just a normal human… for the most part. “I… I like to be called Edward,” he mumbled into his cup as he took a sip. 

“Edward, I wanted to actually talk to you. I know the faculty haven’t been on the most friendly terms, I included, and I would like to apologise on my intrusion the other day. It wasn’t my place to barge in,”she said stiffly like she wasn’t very keen on apologising, but she seemed to know when one was needed. “This doesn’t mean anything on my opinion of your teaching skills though, mark my word.”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Edward admitted. “I shouldn’t have snapped either. It was just a difficult conversation, one that had to get through.”

“With your brother?” she asked curiously, the concept of him having a conversation with himself still confusing. Edward nodded his head.

“He took it as well as anyone could but it's been so long… what can you really do?” he mumbled with a light shrug. She looked like she still didn’t understand anything about his brother but seemed to have the will to push it off for another day. There was a moment of silence and Edward shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He felt an urge from inside him to talk but he couldn’t really find the words he wanted to say. Yet he scrambled for them anyways as a weight on his chest was yearning to be set free. “I… wanted to thank you for…. well … for getting my things,” he started slowly. “It wasn’t expected. I appreciate it.” The professor smiled a little bit, surprised but nonetheless grateful for his statement. 

“Even though we don’t know each other very well, I couldn’t imagine someone living with nothing,” the woman replied. They sat in the classroom, for a few silent minutes just enjoying their tea. It was quite a while before either of them spoke again. Edward found himself smiling lightly as he looked down into his tea cup. Professor Ravenclaw used to invite him to tea a lot after his studies. He always had so many questions for her, most of which were answered in the only way they could, with silence. The last time he sat down with the professors in the castle was in this room, he remembered. All of the heads of the houses were there except for Professor Slytherin. In fact, it was his fault he left the safety of the castle and that the King came to retrieve him for battle. Hogwarts protected him when he stayed inside the walls but it could not protect him from leaving. Professor Gryffindor gave him his sword to fight with in the Crusades but it did nothing to help the fear. Edward could almost see the heaps of bodies on the battlefield. The sword did nothing but add to it. 

CRASH! The porcelain cup in his hand shattered beneath his automail and tea rained down on him. He quickly stood up exclaiming a light obscenity at the mess. 

“Sorry,” he quickly muttered as he bent down and clapped his hands to fix the mug. He placed it quickly back on the table as he tried to clean up the mess. 

“Your hand is bleeding!” McGonagall announced as she snatched his hand. There was a thin line of blood where the mug had cut his flesh hand. 

“No it’s not. I am fine-” he said as he pulled it back towards him. He grabbed a small napkin that the professor handed him and wiped the blood off gently. The cut, of course, was healed and there was no sign that he was ever hurt to begin with. He knew what energy was used to heal his hand. Though small, those cuts build up. He cursed himself for being so reckless. Those were people's lives he was dealing with. He couldn’t risk them over such petty things. “See? I am fine,” Edward muttered sadly as he showed her his hand. “I am sorry. Sometimes I forget the strength of my own hand yah know? I was… remembering.”

“Remembering?” Minerva asked surprised. 

“N-nothing. I think I should go. I am sorry about the mess,” Edward stumbled as he backed towards the door. He quickly turned around and with quick pace moved out of the room without waiting to hear the professor’s complaints. He sped down the hallway a good distance from the disturbing memories and leaned against the wall, taking in a few slow breaths to calm his nerves. 

_ “Brother, the Crusades are over. You aren’t going back there-” _

“I know, I know,” Edward breathed as he held his head in his hands, trying to ground himself. It has been a few hundred years since he had seen King Arthur, and he was glad for the sake of that, but the memories still lingered longer and deeper than any scar he could ever sustain. There was a long period where Edward just stood there and regained his composure. After a little while though he heard the souls in the stone start to speak up again. 

_ “Edward, you did good,” _ he heard Winry say. 

“I felt like an idiot. I thanked her and just ran out of there,” Edward mumbled to himself as he sank down to the stone floor. He tucked his knees to his chest and just rested there for a few moments. He felt a swirl of compassion flow through him. He could almost picture Winry standing there talking to him, but he knew it wasn’t true. She was inside the stone like everyone else. 

“ _ But at least you thanked her,” _ she noted, reminding him of the little steps of progress he was taking. He wasn’t used to socializing anymore. It stressed him out far more than it needed too and to have a flashback in the middle of it all, doubly so. Yet Winry and everyone else were pushing him to make small steps. He was going to be stuck in the castle for a year. He might as well know the people he would be working with even if one of those faces included Dumbledore’s. Edward nodded his head dumbly, accepting the small victory even though it had come with a great cost. 

“At least I had that,” Edward muttered. 

……..

The weekend came and Edward woke up early Saturday morning. He was relieved to have a break from those annoying kids and relax a little bit. However, what he was going to do with his day, he hadn’t the slightest clue. It wasn’t like he could go outside. It wasn’t like he could really go anywhere. He had been chasing after Flamel for over 600 years. He didn’t know how to sit still anymore. Without a mission, a destination, he was lost. Maybe class days were better, he thought. At least then he could push the fact that he was trapped inside the stone walls to the back of his mind. Now, the only thing he could think of was that there was nothing he could do to get out of there. He was trapped. 

He laid on his bed staring at the ceiling for a long while, debating what to do. Would it even matter if he left his chambers or not? The souls in the stone urged him to get up but Edward tried to decide for that himself. Eventually a growling in his stomach beckoned him out of bed to get ready for the day. He growled as he got dressed into his normal clothes, leaving the cape for a colder day. He had taken to wearing his muggle clothes which Minerva had retrieved for him when she went to pillage his house. He was grateful for that. He always felt better in a nice button down shirt and slacks. It was more… relaxed. Wizards always knew how to over complicate clothing in an attempt to bedazzle their friends. Muggles were just simple, normal. By living a very complex life, he never wanted to overcomplicate the simple things. 

After slipping his shoes on and braiding his hair, Edward decided to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He knew that few students would be up so early that morning so he decided to take a little longer route through the  _ Feower Geard _ in hopes of some fresh air. It was similar to the courtyard in many ways except for the fact that it lacked a substantial amount of grass. Edward never really liked walking through it because it didn’t make him feel like he was outside at all. At least in the courtyard he could imagine rolling hills. The  _ Feower Geard _ was more ruff cut. However, for the sake of the morning, Edward ventured out into it. It was along his way to the Great Hall and he might as well try to waste some time his weekend held. 

As he got a little ways into the quad Edward heard some voices arguing across the way. They sounded angry from what he could tell and there sure were a lot of them. He peered across the yard to see a mash of green and red, all holding broomsticks for a game of quidditch. Quidditch started after Edward was at Hogwarts. He didn’t know much about the sport but one thing he knew, no matter how good the intentions, nothing good could come from a meeting with the Gryffindors and Slytherins. The history of their feud unfortunately had started with him. 

‘What’s going on here?” Edward barked as he walked over to the gathering crowd. The oldest students from each team seemed to race to get over to him as if even that was a competition. 

“Professor, I booked the quidditch field for the Gryffindor team to practice-”

“We have a note from the head of our house to train out new seeker,” the Slytherin student cut in nearly shoving the note in his face. Edward ripped it out of his hands and held it at an appropriate distance for reading. Sure enough it had Snape’s loopy signature. 

“New seeker?” Edward challenged lightly. The rest of the teams crowded around and a bright blond haired boy in green robes stepped out. Draco Malfoy. Edward remembered him from class. “Aren’t you a bit young?” he questioned, comparing his age to the rest of the members of the team who all appeared to be fifth years or older.  

“Well, I see no problem with it. If Potter gets to join in his first year of school when he isn’t even allowed to own his own broom,” Malfoy muttered glaring across the way at the stated person. Harry seemed to return it with even more fervor. “Then I think it is alright for me to join and bring along a couple of gifts.” The kid slyly tilted his broom a bit as to catch his attention to it. It worked. Edward noted that all of the slytherin team seemed to have new unused brooms all the same style as Malfoys.

“At least none of the Gryffindors had to buy their way onto the team. They got on by talent,” he heard someone mutter under their breath just what he was thinking. Arguing picked up again and Edward tried his best to prevent the two teams from pummeling each other into the ground however it took one small word out of Draco’s mouth to send the entire quad into chaos. Mudblood. The Weasley twins launched themselves at the other team and Edward snatched them by the tails of their robes, hurdling them back to their side of the quad. Wood went after Flint and Edward shoved them back to their appropriate sides. However it only took Ron Weasley’s single mistake to end the fighting where it had begun. 

There was a loud bang as the kid pulled out what appeared to be a severely beaten chopstick but was really the remains of a spellotape coated wand. Edward clapped his hands and slapped them to the pavement, a wall forming between the two teams. However before it even finished forming, Edward realised that it wasn’t even needed. Either Ron was holding his wand backwards or it was tempermental about its poor upkeep, but the spell that he intended to throw at Draco hit him instead. The kid was flung backwards and the instant he hit the stone ground there was a pool of slugs pouring out of his mouth. Edward winced as he slowly clapped his hands and returned the stone back to normal. 

The slytherins erupted into an uproar of laughter and Edward chased them off with a wicked glare and an angry snarl. They scattered towards the Quidditch pitch but Edward snatched the collar of Draco’s robes before he could even take one step. There was no way he was going to let him get away. 

“Sit, Stay,” he ordered stiffly as he planted the kid to the quad. He walked over to where the readhead upchucked another round of slimy slugs. It was repulsive but definitely not the worse thing he saw magic do. There was a little kid, another gryffindor, was snapping photos on a huge camera. 

“Can you cure him Harry? You can do it can’t you?” the kid asked excitedly. Edward ripped the camera out of his hands for a second just to give the Quidditch team some peace and quiet. 

“It’s not an illness, you can’t cure it,” Edward sniped as he handed the kid back his camera, challenging him to take another picture. The child put it away quickly. “The best you can do is wait for it to stop.”

“How do you know it will stop professor?” Hermione asked, the deep worry flowing through her. 

“He isn’t the first one to vomit slugs in Hogwarts,” Edward grumbled as he lifted the sick kid to his feet, handing him off to his friends. Harry and Hermione supported him but kept their distance lest they wanted to get coated in slugs. “Go to the groundskeeper, whoever that is. They should have some flesh eating slug repellant.”

“That’s toxic!” The Weasely twins argued for the sake of their younger brother. 

“I didn’t say eat it!” Edward retorted roughly. “Just take a few sniffs of it. The aroma will make the slugs come out faster.” 

“Are you sure it will work?” Harry asked nervously. 

“Of course I am sure!” Edward growled. “That’s what the groundskeeper had me do when I was in his state! Now get going! I am sure Ron doesn’t like the taste of them.” Harry and Hermione muttered about taking him to Hagrid’s hut and they started to haul their friend away. A trail of slugs followed him all the way out of the quad. Edward shivered. He remembered when he was in transfigurations. They were supposed to be turning slugs into pencils and it just backfired on him. Luckily he was just vomiting slugs and not writing utensils. That was the first time Edward willed himself enough to even try transfigurations, under Professor Gryffindors pushing. The professor was rather impressed with how horribly wrong it went. The man never made him actually try another spell for the rest of the semester. Even after that Edward refused. 

“Professor, what about our practice?” Wood asked, snapping Edward from his thoughts. 

“Are there two goal posts?” Edward asked curiously. The red team looked at each other as if they didn’t know how to respond. How could their professor not know the setup of quidditch? They nodded their heads dumbly. “Then it’s settled. Gryffindor and Slytherin will share the field.” His answer was firm and the students were too nervous to challenge it so the rest of Gryffindor team, minus their seeker, went to the field to finish what they started. When they cleared out Edward turned back to where Draco was still standing. The kid was either too obedient to sneak away or too scared of what Edward might do to him if he was caught. He bet for the latter. 

“So, you are calling people mudblood now?” Edward asked as he strolled back over to where the green robed student was standing. “Where did you learn that one?”

“Professor, it is just a name. I called her what she was,” Draco muttered under his breath, trying to defend himself. 

“And why does having muggle parents make someone any different?”

“They are different though! Everything they do is different. Even you look like you are dressing like one of them. It’s degrading,” the kid retorted. Edward looked down at his clothes. In muggle standards they were plain, nothing absurd about them, a simple button down slacks and jacket. But that was the problem. They were too plain. Wizards enjoyed the fanciful and absurd which was something Edward never understood. He crossed his arms defiantly and stood taller so he towered over the student. 

“And who says I am not one of them?” he asked stiffly. Draco frowned and looked absolutely confused. Edward leaned in and gave him an evil smirk as he stared him down. “I can destroy this castle with a clap of my hands. I am possibly one of the most powerful beings that walk this earth, but don’t confuse power with magic. Because whoever says I am a wizard is in for a beating of their lifetime.” The kid paled making Edward’s grin just grow bigger. However Draco was stubborn and seemed to shake his momentary fear and replaced it with his usual arrogance. There was a long silence where the kid just glared at him. Edward knew that he couldn’t change his mind. It was pointless as this rivalry has been going on since he even got to that world. It was what held him in the witch trials, it was what sent him to the crusades. He was on the wrong side of both muggle and wizard persecutions. He knew that Malfoy wouldn’t change this. Edward shook his head wondering why he was trying. 

“Is that it?” Draco complained, wanting to leave to go practice. 

“Nope. Detention with me tonight,” Edward snapped. “If you are late I will make it the whole weekend. Now go practice. I am sure Snape made that note because you need it.” The kid turned red with the insult but quickly picked up his broom and sped off towards the quidditch field. Edward smirked to himself as he made his way in the opposite direction towards the Great Hall. He could hear light laughter within him from Mustang as if he couldn’t contain himself. 

“ _ The look on his face was priceless,” _ the man chanted, laughing at how Edward nearly scared the shit out of his student.

_ “That was cruel,” _ Alphonse retorted plainly as if he didn’t expect any more or less from him. Edward shrugged. 

“Hey Equivalent exchange right? An insult for an insult.”

“ _ That’s not how it works brother you know it.” _ Edward rolled his eyes as he pushed the door to the Entrance Hall open. A few people scattered it but not many. Edward was hoping to find the Great Hall in a similar state so that he could enjoy his breakfast quietly in peace. He still didn’t like how the faculty looked at him, nor the students. Maybe with it being the weekend they wouldn’t be there in such high concentration. Edward made his way quietly into the hall and tried to keep his head down as a few of the wizards looked up at him with staring eyes. He sometimes wished that would turn invisible and just return to the quiet solitude he had been living in previously.

Edward turned into the Great Hall and noticed a few of the faculty members were sitting at the high table. A couple students sat at bare tables and a few ghostly figures scattered around them. He made his way towards the table with the intent on grabbing a plate of food like he usually did and enjoy the peace of the morning by himself. He grabbed a plate from the table and started to fill it when he heard a sharp voice from behind him. 

“Oh Edward, good you are here. You will be joining us for breakfast won’t you?” Minerva asked him as she approached the table with a light novel tucked underneath her arm. It appeared as if she had intended on enjoying that weekend too. With it being the start of the school year there wasn’t much work for the faculty to do since no exams or extensive papers were assigned. 

“Uh… I wasn’t planning-” Edward stumbled as he glanced back at the table of Professors. Many of them looked wary of him. The groundskeeper, potions master, and even the history of magic professor who was infact a ghost, were glancing at him nervously. It seemed that he wasn’t popular amongst them for various unknown reasons. However amongst the wary faculty there came a chipper voice in the form of the head of Hufflepuff house, Pomona Sprout. 

“You are welcome to sit next to me if you like,” she said shifting down enough for him to take a seat. Edward stood there awkwardly holding his plate unsure whether to take her up on her offer. 

“I… I-”

“Come on lad, it’s alright. We aren’t gonna bite. You healed my hands after all. You show more competency than some of us here!” the stout woman said pointedly, more towards Gilderoy than anything. Edward looked at the man but he seemed none the wiser as he sat at the end of the table soaking up the newspaper’s new print of his face. He found himself shuffling over to the seat and sitting down between the herbology and potions professors hesitantly. They looked to him as if waiting for him to start a conversation but he couldn’t find anything to talk about. He just sat there awkwardly, glancing between the professors. 

“I saw you outside with the quidditch teams. Are you the reason why the Gryffindors are intruding on our field time?” Snape interrogated lightly, trying to start a conversation with him. Minerva gave a light ‘harumpf’ to the man’s statement as she was very defensive for her own team. Edward crossed his arms defiantly. 

“Gryffindor booked the field first, Slytherin team had your note. Apparently there are two goal posts so they can share-”

“Six-”

“What?” Edward gasped nearly choking.

“There are six goal posts,” Pomona elaborated.

“Well there’s more than enough room then!” he exclaimed wondering why everyone thought there wasn’t enough room on the field. 

“Do you really not know about Quidditch?” she asked. 

“N-no. I heard of it. It’s a sport right? It was made after my time here,” Edward answered honestly. The faculty paled, especially the history professor though his skin was already quite transparently silver to begin with. 

“Merlin’s beard! Quidditch was made a sport in the 11th century!” Professor Binns exclaimed. Though he looked rather surprised, the emotion never reached his voice which remained as monotone as ever. Edward could foresee many students falling asleep in his class. 

“Merlin didn’t have a beard,” Edward muttered under his breath, lightly confused. Why did this become an exclamatory saying, he would never know. The other professors didn’t hear him however and continued to discuss the game of Quidditch he was rather not interested in. He lightly poked at his breakfast, tuning out the talk of who was going to win the house cup that year. All of the heads of houses were rather competitive on the matter. He was feeling kind of pressured and wished Snape never brought it up. Suddenly the conversation died down a little as Flitwick’s attention was attracted elsewhere. It seemed that since Ravenclaw won the Quidditch cup the previous year, the professor was rather vocal on defending its rein. Edward kept his head down and just continued to poke at his food, hoping not to be pulled back into a lost trainwreck of a conversation.

“I was just floating by your classroom, professor Flitwick, and I thought I heard Peeves running amuck! Do you know where I could find the Baron at this hour? He seems to have gone….,” the newcomer started but seemed to stop as something else caught his attention. “By God, it can’t be… Paracelsus? Is that really you?” Edward heard an old familiar voice say. His entire body froze as he turned around and came face to face with a ghost of his past… literally.

“ _ Nick?! _ ” Edward said in disbelief as he saw the ghost of his old friend floating next to him, a little ways down the table where the charms professor was. The man was pale, completely transparent but didn’t seem to change from the last day Edward had seen him, his execution. Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington was a young wizard who spent most of his time in the muggle community. He frequently visited Edward in his study at Oxford University as Nicholas himself wanted to learn more about muggles and their lives. Edward often warned the foolish wizard that he wasn’t a muggle or a wizard but they still managed to become better friends in their individual studies. Unfortunately, though Nick loved muggles, he was a horrible spell caster and landed himself on the chop block from a simple mistake. 

“I… Nick I haven’t seen you in ages! The last time I saw you-”

“45 chops to the neck definitely wasn’t the best last image of me I can tell,” the ghost replied in his old cheery tone. 

“The  _ best _ image? Now you’re exaggerating,” Edward said sarcastically making the man laugh.

“Same old Paracelsus. It is like you never changed-”

“Well I didn’t really,” Edward said motioning towards himself. He looked exactly the same he did when he met Nicholas let alone coming to that world. “But I haven’t been called that in years. It’s Edward… my real name,” Edward admitted. Nicholas looked rather amused. 

“And just when I thought I knew everything about you, my old friend,” the man chuckled. “You always did know how to surprise people.”

“Call it the Elric charm,” Edward muttered, hearing the souls inside of him snickering with response. 

“Edward,” the stiff voice of Minerva called out. Edward turned slightly to glance across the table at her. “You know Sir Nick?” 

“Of course I do!” Edward retorted as if the thought of him not was blasphemous. “We went to University together! I went to study physics and history but Nicholas was studying me!”

“It was my muggle studies! And let me say he was the most interesting of them all!” Nicholas retorted trying to defend himself. Minerva gave a light chortle of amusement and disbelief but she seemed nonetheless ecstatic about the revelation. There was a slight murmur that rose up amongst the table and Nick took Edward aside away from the light commotion. His ghostly hand accidentally floated through him and Edward felt a huge shiver run through his back as if he was plunged into a bucket of ice. A quickly feeling of sadness flew through him as he realised, though he found his old friend, he wasn’t technically still there with him. The man was still dead. 

“How on Earth did you ever get stuck back here, Edward?” the man asked, obviously very curious as to where he was the entire time. 

“It is a very long story-”

“That was your answer to nearly everything, my friend, but now that it seems that both of us won’t run out of time this time around, would you like to talk?” Nicholas stated, his silver eyes twinkling happily. Edward looked up at him where he floated lightly above the ground. He was one of his best friends he met on that side of the gate. He was the last person he really talked to before he decided to try and forget about the world. When Porpington died, he holed himself up in Siberia like a hermit until Nicholas Flamel came along and found him. Edward found himself smiling lightly at Nicholas’s invitation because it was the first one he had in a long time. A talk amongst friends. He thought it was about time the two of them got caught up. 

……………...

Minerva watched the Eastern Sage walk out of the Great Hall with a figure from the man’s past, Nearly Headless Nick. She couldn’t help but a light smile pull on her lips as she noted, for the first time, a truly happy grin on the new professor’s face. She didn’t know him for long. The school year was just bridging past its first week but she still didn’t know someone could go for so long without even finding some joy in something. 

The case of Edward Elric really bewildered her. For someone so young to be burdened with living forever… she didn’t know how he did it. And she feared for what his life had brought him, for it was apparent, even to her, that he hadn’t quite left all aspects of it behind. Going to his house, Minerva saw what skeletons hid in his closet though the full story was far from revealed. He was struggling and even simple conversation seemed difficult for him to manage. The Eastern Sage was a different person who lived a different life than the rest of them. Edward was not ready to teach and it didn’t look like he wanted to. How, or even why Dumbledore wrangled him into staying at Hogwarts that year was beyond her but it seemed that the headmaster was tangled in the Sage’s affairs more than anyone wise should be. 

“What are you smiling at?” she heard Severus’ voice drawl beside her. It looked like he had gotten up from where he was seated to get some more eggs for his breakfast plate, but she knew it was just like the head of Slytherin to butt in where he was not wanted. 

“Nothing,” she said tartly as she picked up her tea and took a sip. 

“He isn’t a teenager you know-”

“I damn well know that! He’s ancient!” she snipped bitterly at the man. Severus frowned as he took a seat next to her. Their voices were low as to not disturb the rest of the hall. 

“I would advise you not to wander too deep into the Sage’s affairs-”

“And I would advise  _ you _ that I am a good few years older than you and know how to make my own impressions of people!” she scolded him. “I don’t know what you have against the man, but he is a professor at this school, and as barbaric as his teaching methods are he should be treated with respect as any professor should be.” There was sudden laughter from down the table and Minerva glanced past the potion’s master to see Gilderoy chuckling whole heartedly at something that no one else found particularly funny. Rolling her eyes she muttered, “well the respect that most professors should get.”

“You saw what he had in his house, Minerva. He possesses the stone and knows an art all wizards who tried to learn seemed to not be able to wield. I would imagine you know what he is capable of-”

“All of us are capable of many things, Severus. I suppose you should remember that when you talk to me next or else I might just have to remind you,” she huffed as she stood up and excused herself from the table. She picked up the book she had brought with her and quickly left the Great Hall and Severus behind her. A bloom of aggravation filled her as she stormed through the castle towards her classroom. 

“That man is too paranoid,” she growled under her breath. She knew he was rightfully so. He was just taking in what he knew and applying it logically, but there was still nothing on Elric’s personality that screamed out danger to her. Minerva remembered the bloody sword that they found in his house. Surely it couldn’t have gotten that way by delightful means of confrontation. The sword was a weapon, used to kill, but also defend she reminded herself. Minerva didn’t know Godric personally, Elric surely seemed he did, but if her experience in Gryffindor taught her anything, a sword wasn’t given to just anyone. Whatever Edward had to do or did in the past, if Godric gave him the sword, he was a Gryffindor in her book even though he hailed from the Ravenclaw house by the sorting hat. 

Minerva entered her classroom and walked over to the windows to open them up. It was deathly hot in there for the end of summer and even though the stone of the castle usually kept the building cool, it sometimes still wasn’t enough. As she cracked the window open she heard the sudden sound of laughter. It was still fairly early in the morning and she doubted that many of the students were thinking of getting up anytime soon. For them to be rambunctiously laughing, there must have been something going on, possibly the Weasley twins. She poked her head out of the window determined to catch them in the act of their mischief but froze as she caught sight of Sir Nick floating out in the court yard. He glowed lightly in the shade with his normal ghostly appearance but beside him a golden head stood out bright as the sun which had not yet scaled the wall of the courtyard. It was Edward. He was grabbing his belly laughing at something Nicholas must have said. Though dead, Minerva knew his sense of humor to be far from it. The sound of his laughter made the smile that Severus took away from her come back lightly. Though Edward was a strange man, he was no stranger to Hogwarts and Minerva was determined not to make him one. 

 


	6. Voices in the Wall

**_Harry Potter and the Easter Sage_ **

Chapter 6

Voices in the Wall

 

Edward gently rubbed the oil cloth over his arm, trying to get a decent layer of lubricant down in his joints. It had only been with the stone that he tried to keep up with his maintenance because if he didn’t there was no possible way of getting away from Winry’s yelling. She might not have been able to throw wrenches, but that didn’t mean she still couldn’t be a pain in the-

“ _If you even finish that statement the next time you break your arm I am going to throw_ that _at you,”_ Winry scolded him, gritting her aggravation out through her teeth.

“Who says I will break it again?” he retorted dumbly just for nearly half of the stone’s residences to put in a convicting word all at once. He groaned as he tried to cover his ears at their sudden volume even though he knew it was no use. The sound was coming from inside him. He couldn’t block it out normally. “Fine I get it,” he growled as he hushed the voices up and returned to his arm.

“ _Don’t forget the shoulder-”_

“Shut up,” Edward snipped wanting in all of his might to throw the oil cloth at the woman for her nagging. It has been going on longer than he had wanted. Winry noticed his arm stiff up when he was talking to Sir Nick earlier that day. She told him that if he didn’t oil it he was going to lose it. However, he thought, a short delay for the sake of his friend wasn’t a loss at all. He had no clue that Nick was a ghost and he was even more baffled that he chose Hogwarts out of all places to haunt. It was a coincidence that Edward was grateful for, because if he chose anywhere else to haunt he would be teaching the entire year without a familiar face.

_“Helena’s a familiar face,”_ Alphonse reminded him and Edward rolled his eyes making a rather rude sound as he scoffed at the idea.

“That’s one face I wish was not,” he grumbled as he put another drop of oil on his cloth. He noticed some light rusting on some of the wires and sighed as he lifted his arm up for closer inspection. It must have been caused by the rainy European weather he suffered through when chasing down Flamel. He sighed lightly as he scraped the orange soot off and coated the metal with a good layer of oil. He wouldn’t need to worry much about rust now since he was stuck inside out of the weather. Edward continued to work until he heard a knock on his classroom door. He looked up to see Draco standing in the doorway, waiting to be acknowledged, and that is what Edward did.

“You are late,” he scolded and the young Slytherin shuffled his way in, a guilty look on his face.

“I was caught up by Professor-”

“You forgot. Don’t lie to me,” Edward sighed as he returned his gaze to his work. He knew full well what the boy was doing. He was hanging with his two halfwit friends, spreading new rumors and complaints about him. He had passed them silently in the corridor when he went to the supply closet for a bottle of oil just a half hour ago when the detention was already scheduled. “Sit over there and shut up until I decide on what to do with you now that you are here,” Edward ordered as he threw his rag down on the desk and clapped his hands, transmuting a screw driver from the floor. He wasn’t knowledgeable enough to do mechanical maintenance, but he did know how to remove the forearm plating so he could clean underneath. Dirt absolutely loved to hide in all the nooks and crannies of his automail and underneath the plating was always the worse. He heard Winry’s exasperated cry as he started to scrub at it. As he worked he didn’t have to look up to see that his student was staring at him.

“The fact that you are looking means that you are curious as to why I have metal limbs,” Edward muttered as he continued his work. “The simple answer is that I lost them.”

“What’s the complex answer, professor?” the boy asked simply. Edward looked up and saw the innocent expression across his face. For a kid who was openly against the mixing of muggles and wizards to the point that he called his fellow classmate a mudblood, he was very curious on muggle inventions and endeavors. The wizarding world was not at all advanced in their prosthesis because it was rare to have an amputation that couldn’t be magically fixed. Only dark curses could really cause a permanent loss of a limb. Edward, when his leg broke ages before muggle technology was to par of good repairs, had to suffer through their use for a long time.

“The complex answer is exactly why you are not going to be learning alchemy till you figure out the laws,” he replied coolly. “By the way this class is going so far, I believe you will never know.” Draco frowned and crossed his arms, slouching in his seat with disappointment. Edward smirked.

“What am I going to do with you?” Edward hummed, focusing on a specific spot on his elbow joint. “You didn’t figure out the first law yet, so I can’t do anything alchemy related. That wouldn’t end well for anyone. Why don’t we do a punishment suitable for the crime, eh?”

“What crime? All I had was an opinion. I don’t see any problem with that,” Draco retorted.

“You are right about that. I can’t give detentions just because I disagree with someone’s opinion, but I can give detentions to those who act wrongly on it. Calling someone Mudblood is harassment by any book,” Edward stated simply. He knew everyone was entitled to their opinion but like he said before, he might not be able to correct the person, but he could correct their actions.

“In order to watch your language you are going to spend this detention not using it. If I hear a peep from you I will come up with some silly punishment for you,” Edward told him. “This could have been a very exciting detention for me however I have some maintenance to take care of-”

“But professor-”

“Push ups.”

“What?” Draco asked, confused as to what he meant.

“I wasn’t joking about silly punishments. You just talked. I honestly thought you would last longer than that. Do fifteen pushups and shut up,” Edward snipped quickly as he picked up the oil rag again.

“A… You can’t make me do that muggle stuff! Punishment is not-”

“I am not touching you am I?” Edward retorted half mindedly. “I am just sitting here, giving a rather _very_ strong suggestion to do fifteen pushups and then to close your mouth.”

“But-”

“Trust me. Doing push ups won’t kill you, just make you stronger. In a way, this is benefitting you more than me,” he told him. There was a long moment of silence and Edward thought he took his advice to not talk but the kid was just slouching in his seat with a concentrated look on his face. Edward set down his oil rag and gave the kid a disbelieving stare.

“You don’t know what a push up is do you?” he stated the obvious. It looked like the kid wanted to retort but Edward just rolled his eyes and threw the oil rag on his desk. His forearm plate was still off but that didn’t affect the function. He stood up and rounded the desk. “Come on get up. I am going to teach you-”

“I am not doing any muggle work-”

“Yes you are if I have anything to say about it. Get up now,” he ordered him. The kid groaned and reluctantly stood up from the desk. Edward motioned for him to stand next to him. “Okay get down like this-” he said, getting down into the front leaning rest position.

“I am not getting down on the ground-”

“Just do it,” Edward groaned. Draco hesitantly copied him. “Now all you do is go down and push yourself back up like this,” he instructed doing a simple push up for the sake of his students observation. “That is one.” Draco tried to copy him but he was struggling. Managing to do one, he rested his knees on the ground.

“That is stupid. Why do they do this?” he complained.

“To get arms like this,” Edward chuckled rolling up his left sleeve to show his student his arm. “It helps build strength in your arms but also discipline. You wizards have your own ways of keeping fit, but they don’t really deal with actual focus like this. To train the mind you must first train the body. If you want to get more focused on things try doing simple work outs like this. They can be fun, but for now they are punishment. So finish your fifteen and I will finish my maintenance. After that, we will see what else this detention has in store for us.” Edward stood up and walked back to his desk to put his plate back on his arm. He heard Draco struggling to do a couple more pushups on his own. Frankly he was amazed that he was still determined to do it. The kid managed to do fifteen by the time Edward had screwed on his arm plate and then rolled up his pants to work on his leg. Draco was currently sitting at his desk quietly as he was instructed to do previously to avoid more pushups. He noticed how the boy was rather interested in his automail. It looked like he was bursting at the seams with questions but he knew that if he talked he would just do more work. Luckily for Edward, he couldn’t stay silent for long.

“How do they work in Hogwarts if there are wards blocking out electricity?” Draco asked.

“Twenty sit ups,” Edward said flatly to the kid’s disappointment. “Do you know what those are?” Edward asked him. Draco shook his head. He sighed as he got up from his desk again and motioned him to sit down on the ground. Without question this time, he did. Wizards tended to stay fit because their lifestyle was more physical work than the muggle’s. Edward was amazed at how the wizards were able to stay in an earlier century rather than adapt to muggle inventions that made life more stationary. However, wizards were never ones for mingling.

“Alright lay back like this, put your hands behind your head, and then sit up,” Edward instructed, going through the motion. Draco copied, not very gracefully but he managed. Edward sat back and watched Draco finish his set, giving him little advise here and there.

“The reason why my limbs are able to work is because they aren’t electrical. They are powered by my body’s nervous system. They are connected straight to my nerves,” he explained, deciding to satisfy his question. It looked like Draco wanted to ask more but after struggling to do the sit ups he thought better. They suddenly heard the door swing open with a bash as it hit the wall. A rather excited Gilderoy Lockhart entered the room with a swish of his overly obnoxious robes, a meek and rather annoyed looking Harry following behind him. Lockhart looked rather confused as to why they were on the floor but ignored it like he always did best.

“Edward! You must have forgot about our meeting! Remember we scheduled it for Saturday evening?” the man said with a cheerful gleam in his eye. Edward glared at him, any amount of peace for the evening seeping out of him.

“I didn’t forget, Gilderoy. Quite the opposite,” he growled as he tried his best to disregard the man. He stood up, helping Draco up off the floor with him, before heading back to his desk where he left his cleaning kit. The professor strode across the room and met him there with a pout on his face.

“Remember, this attitude is exactly the reason we are having this chat this evening-”

“I am giving detention,” Edward said stiffly.

“Well you can give it in my classroom. Harry is serving detention with me. We were just opening some fan mail I was sent-”

“I am cleaning my leg-”

“You are-” the man stuttered as he looked down. It looked like he just noticed Edward’s metal leg sticking out of his pants. He looked rather uncomfortable staring at it. “Oh.. um… Can you do that in my classroom?” he asked questionably. Edward didn’t know what was his problem. He did nothing to hide his arm that whole week. Everyone knew that he had a metal arm, though his leg was always hidden beneath his pants. He guessed that Gilderoy thought that his metal parts were just some estranged fashion sense. Edward stared him straight in eye, very unamused.

“I don’t want to.”

“Well even though you might not want to, it is respectable to listen to your elder-”

“I am older than you. How many times do I have to say this for it to get through your thick skull?!” Edward yelled at him. “I am older than you not by just a couple years, but nearly a millenia!” Gilderoy chuckled as if he found something particularly funny with what he said. He laid an arm around his shoulder and not too gently started to guide him towards the door. Edward tried to push him off but his hands were like claws digging into his shoulder.

“I know I might be intimidating to you, so successful at a young age, it might make you want to try and be better. But don’t go making up ludicrous lies about it. No one would believe you. But have no fear, eventually with hard work you get my level in just a few years!” the man said light heartedly, gloating more about his own success than Edward’s youthful potential. Edward heard Alphonse and Mustang laughing their asses off inside the stone. Before he knew it he was inside Gilderoy’s classroom looking at a giant pile of letters towering on the man’s desk. A few of them appeared to be opened, probably more of Harry’s hard work than Gilderoy’s. He glanced behind him to see the two students following them into the room. They weren’t looking at each other but they both wore the same face of damnation. Neither wanted to be there especially with each other.

“Alright, since it looks like we will be spending detention here let us get started! I have a lot of mail to get through and I would hate to disappoint my fans! Harry we should pick up where we left off. You there,” Gilderoy said, pointing to Draco, “you can help him addressing the envelopes. Edward, my young fellow, you will help me open these letters and get them off of my desk.”

Edward didn’t care to hide his audible groan as they all gathered around the paper covered desk.

“How is this supposed to ‘help’ me?” Edward growled. Gilderoy picked up a few letters and set them off to the side.

“Replying to mail shows respect that one has for their fans-”

“I don’t get mail.”

“Why, everyone gets mail-”

“Not me.”

“Professor, how do you keep in touch with everyone then?” Draco asked.

“I have no one to keep in contact with.”

“What about your family?” Harry added curiously. Edward frowned as he picked up a small pile of letters and pretended to shift through them.

“Let’s just say my family is in no state to send letters,” he mumbled. There was a silence that hung over the room for a short while and just seemed to stick there. Under light instruction from Gilderoy, the students continued their work.  Edward tried to join them, but he didn’t get far. He opened a letter addressed to the one and only Gilderoy and didn’t even read the first line before he threw it down on the floor. It was something sappy about how the man made all this witch’s dreams come true. Gilderoy looked over the desk curiously.

“What was that?”

“It was a bill. Junk mail. Nothing important,” Edward retorted plainly as he threw another one down. He opened another letter and exclaimed, “Oh wow, a coupon for Flourish and Blotts for the school year. It’s a whole 5% off,” he lied terribly as the threw another love letter down on the floor.

“Really?”

“No,” Edward answered flatly as he blindly just dumped another pile of letters on the floor. Gilderoy seemed to catch his sarcasm and frowned lightly but said nothing else to him. Deciding to use his time wisely he kicked his leg up on the desk to finish his work on his automail. Though he didn’t have his oil rag he could at least clean it then instead of opening boring letter. There was a loud thwump as his metal leg came to rest and a ton of letters scattered everywhere like confetti. Edward transmuted another screwdriver and started to take off his shin plate off. He scrubbed lightly around the edges and set the plate off to the side to oil later. It was simple busy work to pass the time. As he scrubbed away the last of the dirt Edward heard a rather low voice whisper in his ear.

_“Erressto ska…..Erressto ska ske iass shishkeas.”_

Edward whipped his head around to find whoever said that but he only came up with nothing. Gilderoy was chatting lightly to Harry about his latest success and Edward quickly ordered him to shut up. The man closed his mouth and the room was plunged back into silence.

_“Erressto ska ske iass shishkeas!”_ Edward heard the voice chant more angrily. It sounded deadly… strangely cold blooded.

“Professor, do you hear that?” Harry asked again. Edward turned to the kid eyes wide as he saw Harry look around for the source of the haunting voice like he was. He looked confused and slightly ruffled as the voice was not giving off a good message. He felt all of the warmth run out of him.

“Yes,” Edward felt himself whisper. Draco and Gilderoy looked at them like they were crazy.  But Harry looked relieved as he wasn’t the only one. Edward quickly stood up nearly knocking over his chair on accident. He caught it clumsily and set it upright, his hands trembling like someone was holding him to a burner. He heard farther whispers of the voice down the corridor and Edward realised it was moving. Without an explanation he sped out of the room and down the hall. He heard the voice repeating a similar message over and over again. It sounded hungry. He ran down the halls, twisting around the corners until found the voice suddenly disappearing into no particular direction. He looked around, listened hard for another sign of it but the voice simply vanished. Edward was panting from his sprint and yet he still felt his hands shaking from the fright.

“ _Brother, what was that?”_ Alphonse asked him quietly, a little scare from feeling the adrenaline inside of him. Strong emotions affected everyone in the stone and Edward was on the verge of terrified. He tried to catch his breath as he searched desperately for the source of the voice as if it was still around. With his lack of reply, his brother urged him on.

_"Brother? What-"_

"A snake… it was a snake," he gasped, the fear very evident in the shake of his voice.

……

_"Listen. Just close your eyes and listen," the smooth voice of Professor Slytherin said to him calmly. He was pacing the room behind where Edward sat for his lesson in the cold dark dungeons of Hogwarts. Edward was terrified of the dungeons and had begged the Professor to take their lesson upstairs but the man didn't have it. He just gave him a strong calming potion and sent him down to his classroom. With his nerves forced to be at rest, Edward's body couldn't even rationalize the fear his mind was stirring up as he stared straight into the eyes of  a giant boom slang. As much as his mind was telling him to run away from the venomous creature, his body was in a calm lull and wouldn't move._

_Edward tried to take his teacher's lesson in mind and he closed his eyes blocking the snake from his view. The dungeons were silent as the evening had sent all of the other students to bed and the only thing Edward could hear was the light tapping of Slytherin's pacing and the soft hiss of the snake in front of him._

_"Focus on the snake. Try to hear what it is telling you." Edward forced himself to tune out the man's pacing and even the beating of his own heart as he listened to the dull hiss of the snake. It sounded like a humming that held no pattern, only a tune that would put one to sleep if they listened to it for too long. Edward thought it was going to be another wasted hour of hearing nothing but then he heard a break in the pattern of the snake's voice. Syllables, sounded themselves out into words and sentences._

_'Eeh sto ska eustae," the boomslang hissed between the flicker of its tongue. Edward's eyes opened in shock as he heard it. He nearly fell off of the stool he was perched on and the Professor knew at that moment that he finally understood the lesson._

_"What did it say?" Slytherin asked him calmly though Edward could see the hungry excitement in his teacher's eyes. This man had been waiting years for this moment. Every lesson he had with him on Parseltongue and Ophidiology seemed to be going nowhere until that moment._

_"I…. I don't know. It was in another language but…. I heard it," Edward told him. The Professor frowned a little, his cold green eyes suddenly losing their hope in exchange for disappointment._

_"Try again," he simply ordered. He set his thin hands on Edward's shoulders and set him back down in the chair that he came from. "We can make a Slytherin of you yet. Listen closer."_

_…….._

“ _A snake?_ ” Mustang asked as Edward continued to search the hallway for any sign of the creature. He nodded his head in reply, too preoccupied with the latest disturbance. “I _thought you couldn’t speak Parseltongue-_ ”

“I can’t! I can’t speak it. Never got the hang of it no matter how many times Professor Slytherin tried but… I can hear them. This one… this one had to be huge but-”

“ _It’s not here,_ ” Alphonse stated the obvious. Edward had learned a lot about snakes with his lessons from Professor Slytherin but the language still evaded him. One thing that stuck though was that snakes tended to whisper. One had to be right next to them to really hear what they were saying but Edward had heard that one plain as day and yet still couldn't see where it was. The snake had to be massive, a monster. Edward let his head fall into his hands. He massaged it lightly, trying to make himself calm down. His nerves were rattled from the frightening sound of the snake’s voice. It sounded like it wanted to kill.

 “ _Brother, you are tired. Maybe it was your imagination. You have been having flashbacks recently… it might be from-”_

“No. This wasn’t one. Harry heard it too. It’s not part of my imagination-”

“ _Maybe it’s outside? It could have been on the roof or the walls,"_ Alphonse suggested trying to get to the bottom of this mystery. Edward staggered over to the window. He looked outside into the dark green of the castle lawn. The forest hung over the perimeter of the yard, casting a dark glooming shadow over the terrain. Edward felt chills run down his spine as he looked at it but there was no form of life except for the small lights on the Groundskeeper's hut glowing gently in the night. He shook his head.

“Well, if that was the case… it’s not here now,” he muttered, still searching desperately for answers. “I need to know what it said-”

_“Harry heard it. You could ask him-”_

“He’s too young. It took me 16 years even to get the hang of listening to them. I doubt he could speak it. It isn’t like it is a popular language to begin with. How does he know it at all, that’s my question-” he started but suddenly felt something scuttle across the back of his hand where it was resting on the window sill. He pulled back suddenly on reflex and looked down to see a line of spiders trickling across the window sill and escaping to the outside. It wasn’t just a few, but a whole solitary line of spiders following each other one by one to freedom.

“What the-” Edward muttered as he leaned in closer.

“ _Freaky,”_ Alphonse added as they watched the spiders.

“Professor!” a young voice called out behind him. Edward looked over his shoulder to see Harry running down the corridor towards him. He was carrying something shiny in his hands and it took Edward a closer inspection to notice that it was his shin plate for his automail. “Professor, you left this in the classroom.” He looked down at his leg to see his pants were still rolled up and wires were hanging out of his automail. He growled to himself as he held out his hand for it, taking it rather grumpily from the student’s grasp. Harry handed him the screw driver he transmuted in the classroom too and Edward bent down to quickly attach it again.

“Thanks,” he muttered to the kid roughly. There was a short silence as Edward screwed the plate back on and rolled his pant leg back down, straightening himself out. He looked up to see Harry shifting a little nervously around as if he had a question. Students there didn’t seem to hold their confidence in his presence.

“You didn’t run down the corridor for just my plate. You wanted to ask me about the voice didn’t you?” Edward asked him, knowingly. Harry nodded his head.

“Yes. Why couldn’t anyone else hear it, Professor. Why could only-”

“Have you ever had any… strange occurrences with snakes… or reptiles at all?” Edward interrupted him quickly. Harry looked a little taken back and he pushed his round glasses a little farther up on his nose as he thought about it.

“Not… really… well, there was this one time where I accidentally released a snake on my cousin Dudley at the zoo. But that was an accident. It was telling me that it wanted to go home and-”

“So when you heard the voice tonight you actually heard words, like english words?”

“Y-yes… didn’t you?” Harry asked confused. Edward shook his head.

“No, Harry, I didn’t. Do you mind telling me what it said?” The kid scrunched his nose as he tried to remember what the horrifying voice had told him. Edward was surprised that Harry could hear the voice at all let alone understand it. Parseltongue was a near dead language at that point. For a twelve year old boy to be able to hear it and not even know he could do it was a strange coincidence that Edward didn't like.

“Follow me… uh… body for my master?” Harry said hesitantly. “I don’t remember very well but it wanted something to follow-”

“It's luring someone,” Edward whispered silently to himself, a horrible realisation settling in his stomach. He needed to tell Dumbledore about this. Whatever it was, he was sure the students were not safe in the walls of the castle. With a sudden snap of his fingers he spun around and pointed to Harry. “Off to bed, now. If you hear any stranger noises go in the opposite direction until otherwise noted by me.”

“But Professor, what is it?” Harry asked him as Edward started off back down the corridor his own way. He needed to make yet another stop by the headmaster’s office before the night was through.

“I don’t know. But nothing good.”

………..

“That bastard! Is that his excuse for everything?” Edward raged as he stormed around his chambers in an absolute fury. The bath was running hot water as ordered by Winry. Edward knew she was just trying to get him to relax but after his talk with Dumbledore he didn’t think that was possible. “The castle is safe enough. It’s all in your head,” he mocked heavily. “What a bunch of-”

“ _If you think of it. It is kind of crazy hearing voices in your head,”_ Winry interrupted quickly. “ _When people already know you talk to yourself you lose credibility.”_

“I am talking to you,” he argued, running his hands through his bangs angrily.

“ _They don’t know we exist. They don’t know we hold consciousness,”_ she reminded him sadly. _“The only time they see us is when we are bound to armor. So far Dumbledore and Severus only saw Alphonse, and Roy was only witnessed being bonded by three students who couldn’t know any different. Though he walked around, they don’t know where he came from.”_

“ _It is a rather closed circle Brother, and even then they don’t know the extent of what we can do,”_ Alphonse added in.

“But hearing you guys isn’t like hearing… _that!”_ Edward retorted, turning off the water when he realised it was nearly overflowing from the clawfoot bathtub. “Harry heard it too. That should have been enough for the old bat whose only obsession is with the kid! If he wants to keep him safe they should evacuate the school. Whatever that thing was it might come back-”

“ _Brother we can’t leave the school even if we wanted to,”_ Alphonse replied.

“Well if they gave us the bloody counterspell we damn well could!” Edward yelled to the ceiling as if it would obey his demand. “I don’t want anything to do with magic but I would cast it myself if I just had my wand-”

_“Why not steal a student’s? That’s what I would do,”_ Mustang told him.

“You damn well know that won’t work. Remember the last time I used someone else’s wand?” Edward shivered remembering how he even got his first wand. On his trip to Ollivanders he blew up the entire shop. Not even the foundation remained. They had to take what wands were left and have him practice out in an open field where casualties resulted could only be counted on a single hand. “I doubt students have strong enough wands to contain all this energy. The only one that could possibly work would be Dumbledores and he watches it like a hawk. I would never get it. Even if I do, there is still a high chance I might just level the castle.”

He sighed tiredly as he shrugged off his robe and slipped into the tub. Steam was rising from the surface of the water and its warmth felt good around the ports of his automail. He let out a deep moan as he felt all the pain in his body simply wash away. The Scottish air didn’t suit him. He would get sick before he knew it especially with the temperamental weather.

“I just don’t understand what Dumbledore is trying to accomplish. It is like he wants Harry to get killed.”

_“You sound like you like the kid-”_ Winry teased him.

“I do not!” Edward retorted quickly. “He’s an annoying brat just like all of the others. Being a prophecy makes him no different than the rest of those martyrish snobs. But that’s no reason to get him killed.” He huffed to himself as he picked up a sponge from the edge of the tub and doused it into the water. He just watched it soak up the moisture and squeezed its drenched foam lightly, not really focusing on the motion at all, just feeling it between his fingers. “I just…. I might be  a bitter old man but I don’t like playing with other people’s lives. Dumbledore’s already got me tied up I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt because of it,” he muttered. “That snake wanted someone to follow it. With me having the stone, whatever its intentions were most likely pointed towards me and they weren’t good. Hell, if Dumbledore did evacuate the school and left me to die here at least I would know they were safe. But he only plays below the board, never on it.”

_“I wouldn’t call you a bitter old man,”_ Winry chuckled lightly. Edward could almost imagine the soft compassionate smile on her face with how softly she said that. “ _With those words, I don’t think you’re there yet.”_

“Shut up,” Edward said halfheartedly, a small smile forming on his own lips. “I can be bitter if I want to.”

…….

Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room watching Hermione pace back and forth before the warm fireplace. Ron was trying to figure out a way to try and open a particular chocolate frog package that was being rather difficult. He had just told them about the strange voice that he heard and Ron had dismissed it. Hermione was rather worried and couldn’t seem to stop pacing. However, the crinkling of the chocolate frog box was getting the better of her and she eventually bursted out on him.

“Ron! This is serious! Stop meddling around with a box of chocolates and help Harry! You already have all of the cards!” she scolded him. Ron looked up at her as if she spoke blasphemy. He dropped the box to his lap and glared at her as if she just didn’t understand the importance of his collection.

“ _Almost_ all of them. I just need one more to finish it! If I can just get Paracelsus I will probably be the first wizard at Hogwarts to have all of the cards-”

“We are talking about Harry not some stupid cards!” she retorted.

“Look Harry,” Ron said turning towards him with a look that said he really didn’t want to listen to this. “I know we defeated YouKnowWho last year, and that’s great, but can we please have a normal school year this time?”

“It isn’t like I am choosing to hear voices!” Harry exclaimed. “If I couldn’t that would be fine with me. But the Professor heard them too and they weren’t saying anything good.”

“Professor Elric talks to himself. He probably hears voices in his head all the time-”

“And Harry then?” Hermione challenged. Ron opened his mouth to give a logical answer but closed it after a moment of thought.

“Good point,” he muttered. Harry understood his reluctance to admit something was going on in the school because Ron got hurt pretty badly last year when they went to find the stone. He guessed that if it could be avoided he didn’t want to get hurt again. “So what about these voices? What are they?”

“I don’t know. It seemed the Professor knew though. He ran after it but said he couldn’t understand it. It was in english, how couldn’t he understand it?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know. It is rather odd, a voice only you two can hear? This isn’t good,” Hermione told him. “You should talk to someone about this-”

“And be called a loonie?” Ron announced. “Harry if you say you hear voices no one else can they will call you crazy just like Professor Elric.”

“You can talk to him about it,” Hermione suggested. “Since he seems to know about it-”

“I tried but… He just said the next time I hear it to walk in the other direction. Whatever it is… I don’t think it wants to be friends,” Harry muttered.

……….

Edward sat in his classroom with his feet kicked up on the desk on the following week of class. His students had brought their own books for the class and were still trying to figure out the first law of alchemy. Some of them were discussing their pitches amongst each other softly while others seemed to have given up and started to work on their potions homework. He didn’t mind. If they didn’t want to try and figure out the first law he wouldn’t force them. That would be just a few less people that he had to teach.

As there wasn’t much to do aside from writing the textbook and watching over students so they didn’t blow up the place, Edward was quite bored just waiting for one of the students to figure it out. He was taking a small break from writing the textbook and was currently tossing a crumbled piece of parchment in the air like a ball just waiting for the bell to ring. Students would only on occasion work up the nerve to come up to his desk and ask him a question. He would answer it quickly and send them back. It was rather uneventful and should any other professor look in the classroom, they would assume that he wasn’t teaching at all, which he wasn’t. Unfortunately for him, that particular professor who chose to do just that was Professor McGonagall.

“Edward! What are you doing?” her stiff voice scolded him harshly as she stopped in the middle of the room to witness the students doing nothing in particular.

“Nothing,” he said simply as he tossed the ball one more time in the air. Minerva whipped out her wand and caught it with a levitation spell just to deposit it properly in the rubbish bin. Her face was contorted into a mixture of anger and disappointment as she stormed over to his desk and batted his feet off the top of it. “Hey!” he growled at her.

“You can’t just be doing nothing! Is this what you were doing the entire time?” she exclaimed. Edward grumbled under his breath as he straightened himself out in his chair.

“Yes, do you have a problem with it?”

“Obviously!” Minerva sniped. “You are getting paid to be a professor here at Hogwarts. You can’t just teach nothing.”

“Getting paid? Well that’s a joke,” Edward laughed. “More like ensnared against my own will. I won’t see a sickle this entire year.”

“All Professors get paid-”

“Well I guess I am not a teacher then now am I?” he smirked making her close her mouth in anger.

“You have to teach them something. I will be damned if you are just going to sit here the entire year and-”

“I am not teaching them alchemy until they understand the first law. If I do, they won’t understand the true meaning of alchemy and possibly get themselves killed.”

“Why don’t you tell them the first law-”

“Because I taught Flamel like that and look where it got me,” Edward muttered under his breath. Minerva seemed to catch that and ruffled up a bit.

“Flamel is a great wizard-”

“But a shitty alchemist and a backstabbing bastard,” he growled at her. “If I got my hands on him like I wanted to when I came here we would all be talking about the late Nicholas Flamel.” Minerva gasped as did the rest of the class. All wizards seemed to hold names of high regard and when someone bashed them it was the biggest insult to all wizard kind. Edward crossed his arms defiantly. “I am not trying to teach wizards I am trying to teach alchemists, of which Nick definitely was not. This is how my teacher taught me. Trust me, it is the best way.”

“You need to teach them at least something while they are in the classroom, Mr. Elric. Until they figure out whatever this first law is, you need to be instructing them on something relevant-”

“I am not teaching them alchemy until-”

“It doesn’t have to be alchemy! Just teach them something!” she scolded him before slamming a rather decent sized package on his desk. “And after you finally held a real class for once, I need you to take this to Snape. I have class next period and this needs to get to him before his next class-”

“Hey, why can’t you take it to him now?” Edward asked however the woman’s steely glare held him.

“Because my next class is a practical one so I need to get all of the animals ready for the students. I better hear that you took this down to the dungeons by the end of next period or else you might just be part of my practical!” she snipped. Edward’s eyes widened and he felt himself stumbling to stand. A feather of fear tickled the inside of his stomach and made him slightly nauseous. To some it would appear that he was afraid, or startled, by the woman’s threat. In all reality it wasn’t that which got to him.  

“The… The dungeons?” he asked, his voice seemingly lost to a whisper. Minerva looked at him strangely and nodded her head.

“Where else?” she asked, challenging only lightly. Edward felt his throat tighten up and he couldn’t think of anything else to say to her except the worse.

“C-can’t… Can’t Lockhart do it?” he asked nervously.

“Severus is on the edge of filing for a restraining order from that man, not that I would really trust him in the potions stores to begin with,” she told him. “So after you teach your class for once, take this down to his classroom. If I hear you still sit and do nothing during class period-”

“Let me guess, detention?” Edward sighed under his breath as he realised there was no way out of it. His stomach twisted in damnation but he tried his best not to let the class see him like a wreck.

“That would be the least of your worries,” she scoffed lightly. Edward frowned as he watched her leave and then looked back at the class. They were all staring at him expectantly, wondering what he would do. Edward sighed as he reached down into his drawer and pulled out a piece of chalk. He groaned as he forced himself to walk around his desk. He stood in front of the chalk board for a little while just staring at it. What was he going to teach besides alchemy? He was drawing a blank.

“Professor,” he heard one of his students say. He turned around to see Granger raising her hand. He sighed and pointed to her to shoot her question. “Why don’t you like Nicholas Flamel?” she asked and Edward wondered if he could kick her out of his class without McGonagall knowing.

“When I said he was a backstabbing bastard I meant it quite literally. That is the end of the story,” Edward growled at her, returning his thoughts to the board.

_“Brother, you should teach chemistry. It uses the laws of conservation of mass and energy-”_ Alphonse advised.

“They’re wizards they wouldn’t understand it,” Edward sighed.

_“It would be a good leeway into alchemy. It would also show them what stuff is made out of,”_ he reasoned. Edward took a deep breath and let it out as he glanced behind him to where the class was waiting expectantly for him. He relented to Alphonse’s pestering and took his chalk to the board. After a good few minutes of solid writing he dropped his chalk to the tray and spun around.

“Welcome to Organic Chemistry.”

…………

_The darkness enveloped him, blinding him from the small cold world he was trapped in. It was like a black ink, permanent and unmoving. Edward's head made a loud clank as he rested it on the freezing cold stones of the dungeon's floor. He was too weak to lift the weight off his head any longer. The mask was unbearable to wear and to lift it was even more so. Edward closed his eyes and tried to focus on calming his shivering body down. His arms trembled violently from the cold and he knew that if he still had feeling left in his hands that he would be able to sense a small layer of crystal like ice forming on the stone wall behind him from the moisture that didn't want to leave. The shackles around his wrists that chained him to the wall if he ever found the energy to try and to fight to escape were sheathes of iron ice cased around his arms. The first few weeks or so when he was in there they had started to hurt and chafe his skin and he tried anything to get them off but now in the cold he couldn't feel them anymore._

_He didn't know how long he was there for. It felt like ages but his best guess would have been two years. He couldn't see the daylight but he felt the cold of a winter pass and he could imagine that he was in his second one. The dungeon never got hot in the summer, just less cold. Without a blanket or clothes to warm himself with, it was a wonder why he was still alive. He had gotten sick only once and he imagined it to finally be the blissful end, but the Duke whose dungeon he was in wouldn't have it. The man didn't know much about alchemy but he knew that if he removed the mask whatever immortal powers in him would heal his body back to new. Whenever he was on the verge of death, the Duke would send people down to remove the mask for only a minute so his body could regain its health only to be trapped behind it once more. Edward cried whenever they did that. Not only did they rob him of his death but he also heard the voices inside of him that were silenced for such a long time. A happy relieved greeting from his brother and a concerned word from Mustang were the only joy he got before the mask contained the stone once more. Edward wanted nothing more than to be with them again, even if that might just be in the afterlife._

_The Duke wanted to learn of his immortality just as anyone seeking power would have. The man, hearing of a witch that wouldn't die, scooped him up for his own benefit so that he could seek the answers to death. Edward wouldn't tell him. Even with all of the new ways the Duke showed him that he could hurt, Edward wouldn't tell him. In the beginning it was because he was strong. He was denying the man the world's greatest evil. He laughed in the faces of the greedy nobles and he fought every guard that came to get him for his next lesson in pain. He banged his head against the stones and clawed at the mask because he knew that every second he was there was another second he wouldn't spend in the company of his friends. However that spirit quickly left him. As the days wore on his body became weaker, his energy drained. His body was eating itself away and he knew, even if the Duke had let him walk free, he wouldn't be able to carry himself out of there on his own. He only kept his mouth shut about the secrets of the stone then not because he was defying the duke, but because he knew that eventually the man might just give up and kill him for no better use than for sport. Telling the man would only give the Duke more reasons to keep him alive._

_Edward kept silent and his life in the dungeon fell into a hellish routine. He was force fed through the funnel of the mask what he assumed was three times a week. Interrogations would happen anywhere in between. When no one was with him, he would sit in the darkness, praying to whatever God the people of this world had put their faith in that he would be freed whether that meant walking out of the dungeon doors himself or being carried out in a box. He had no one to comfort him, only the silent twistings of his own mind. Sometimes, if he was lucky he could hear the tortured screams of some other prisoner in another dark dungeon room. Their screams meant that the soldiers were too busy with the fresh meat to bother with Edward's routine visits. That was the only thing that gave him some peace of mind and he hated himself for it. Because of that thinking, he had wished himself to stay in silence and dread the coming of torch light._

_Footsteps sounded outside of the large wooden door and he heard the loud crank of a key unlocking it. Angry voices were arguing with each other, but Edward’s mind was too blurred to make them out. The door to the cell was flung open and the fiery light of a torch blinded Edward and made him curl up against the wall to get away from it. It felt like someone was driving a sword through the side of his head. He only knew this to be an accurate description because he felt it happen before. The men descended the small stone stare case that lead down to the base of the room he was chained in. Edward kept his eyes closed, knowing that the light wouldn't be there long enough to be worth hurting his eyes over. Footsteps clomped over to him, the metal of their armor ricocheting off of the stone floors. Edward felt one of his arms grabbed roughly and tugged as one of the shackles was removed off of him. Cool air pressed on his raw skin where it couldn't touch before. It felt like a soothing creme and Edward couldn't retain the groan of relief that flooded through him. Through the mask, the noise he made sounded garbled and more like a scream of pain. The soldiers gave a chuckle of amusement when they heard it._

_"Hear that? The witch wants more." The shackle on Edward's automail arm was removed but it made no difference to him. His shoulder was frost bitten to the core. He couldn't move his automail arm or leg if he wanted to. With all of the heavy metal strapped to him in chains, restraints, and even his automail, he felt more like a lead weight than a moving person._

_"Yeah, well we better give it to him now before we take him to the King. The little prick is ordering Duke Johan to give him up. I doubt he knows how dangerous these demons are."_

_"Witch lover," the first soldier spat in disrespect to their own king. Edward felt a swift kick to his stomach which knocked the air out of him. The soldiers dropped him to the ground and he just laid there like a sack of potatoes as he didn't have the energy to even sit up. He heard the rattle of chains and new shackles were placed around his arms and legs before one of the soldiers picked him up and slung him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing more than a bag of luggage._

_"Let's get him to the cart." Little did Edward know, that after two years his prayers were finally answered._

_……..._

Edward stood at the top of the staircase what lead down into the _cweartern._ He had the package tucked under his arm all ready to be delivered but his feet just wouldn’t move. His chest was tight as he stared down into the darkness of the stairwell. The dark, cold, dungeons. Edward felt his heart race slightly and he had to take a step back in order to calm himself down.

“ _Brother, it has been fifteen minutes since you got here. You need to deliver it-”_

“I will! Don’t rush me!” Edward scolded him, the frustration very noticeable in his voice. And yet, even though he said that he would he found himself taking another step back from the stair well. It was as if he could see into the darkness. He pictured chains on the windowless walls, the dampness of the cold air. He could almost feel the cold irons cutting into his wrists. Edward shook his head trying to clear the images out of his mind. This wasn’t _that_ dungeon. There were classrooms down there, not prisoners left to be tortured and die. He sucked in a huge breath and steeled himself enough to regain the ground he lost, right back up to the entrance way.

“ _You can do it, just take your time,”_ Winry told him softly.

“If I took my time I wouldn’t go down at all,” Edward chuckled nervously as he stared down the spiral staircase again.

“ _You have us this time. You won’t be doing it alone,”_ she said.

“Alright,” he sighed tiredly, the anxiety in his voice very pronounced. After taking one last look at the bright castle behind him he took a deep breath with his first steps into the dark dungeon below. “Alright.”

……..

 Severus looked through his potion cabinets to see what he had in stock. He wanted to go to Diagon Alley at the end of the month to pick up some more supplies for the classroom and his own personal potion stores. He thought that he had sufficiently stored enough ingredients at the beginning of the year for at least the first semester however after a first year cauldron explosion that burnt half of his cabinets, he realised that he might be in need of some more sooner than expected. As he opened up another cabinet to count the ingredients he heard the door to the classroom open up. He turned to see who it was just to find the Eastern Sage walk in with a rather anxious look on his face as he took in the sight of his classroom. It seemed to somehow falter him as he entered as if he was imagining something of a nightmare walking in. He seemed to want to get out of there as soon as possible, because of what Severus could not say.

“Elric,” he said stiffly, making the man jump as he shocked him out of his intruding thoughts, “What are you doing here?” The golden haired alchemist shuffled over to him, taking a quick glance behind him. Severus thought that his demeanor was rather strange. It was hard to imagine that the Eastern Sage, an all powerful being, could appear to look scared and rather tired.

“I… I have this package for you. M-Minerva wanted me to drop it off for you,” the golden haired man said, his voice quivering almost as much as his hand was as he held out the package for him. It took Severus a few attempts before he was actually able to rip the package from the alchemist’s grasp because he was shaking so much. Something had the alchemist’s nerves wound tight and it was nearly driving Severus insane just watching him.

“Did you see Poppy in the Hospital Ward about your anxiety?” he asked him as he closed his cabinets and went back to his desk to open the package. “She makes sure to keep some Draught of Peace in stock at all times for such cases.” Elric’s face turned a little red as if he was upset that he needed something like that.

“I… I am not anxious! I just have a headache from…  stress-” but even against his words Severus watched the ancient man take a few shaky steps back from him towards the door.

“Your hand has been shaking since you came in here and you look like you saw a boggart,” he interrupted, cutting right to the point as he took a knife out and cut the light string on the parchment. “So why didn’t you get some from the Nurse?”

“I-It’s not strong enough-”

“If it was stronger you would be put into a coma. You can’t make it stronger-”

“That’s the thing, my body cleanses itself too fast. I need high doses of everything. A draught that would put you into a coma… would only work normally for me,” Edward muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Severus caught him looking over his shoulder one more time out of the corner of his eye and he groaned to himself in annoyance.

“Elric, what in this room makes you keep looking over your shoulder?”

“Nothing, can I just go now?” he retorted defensively.

“No,” he stated flatly. “You look like you’re half dead and I am considering calling Poppy down here to get you. So at least try to entertain the idea that my opinion in the matter can be swayed?” Edward frowned at him as he realised that he was not going to give him a choice in the matter. He glanced down at the ground to ponder the situation a bit and Severus rolled his eyes when he caught Elric glancing once more over his shoulder. Eventually, he relented.

“I-It’s nothing in the room… It’s just… I can’t stay here, in the dungeons alright?” he answered. “Can go? I didn’t want to come down here to begin with.”

“Why didn’t Minerva deliver the package herself?” he asked as he unwrapped the parchment paper to observe the disaster that laid underneath. He closed his eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to figure out how horribly delivering a package could have gone wrong. “You mangled it,” he stated as he looked at the small broken vials of ingredients. He was supposed to use them in his fourth year class today but it looked like that along with the rest of his stores were now history.

“I… I uh.. Might have.... Thrown it at Peeves when he came out of the wall in the potions corridor and scared me,” the man muttered nervously. Severus rolled his eyes as he simply swiped the package off of his desk and into the rubbish bin beside it.

“Go see Poppy,” he ordered coldly. The alchemist frowned as he took a step back from the table. He seemed rather insulted, which was Severus’ intention as he unknowingly destroyed any hope of following through with the next class’s instruction. However the alchemist also seemed relieved with his dismissal as he did anything but sprint out of the classroom towards the stairs back to the upper levels of the castle. Severus watched as the alchemist left, a great curiosity settling in him. It seemed that Minerva was at least partially right in their constant arguments about the Eastern Sage. He was not the strong and powerful being Severus had originally taken him for. He was scared of something as simple as a dungeon and was clumsy as a child, which was something Severus still refused to call him. The Eastern Sage was not a child, yet he was still very peculiar indeed.


	7. The Brother

**_Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage_ **

Chapter 7

The Brother

 

_Sparks flew as metal clashed against metal. Men ran forward on foot and horseback, carrying the weight of their iron armor and blade. Bodies flew to the ground as catapults of rocks and debri flung their weights onto unexpecting heads. Voices yelled commands, cried prayers, and screamed in pain. Blood coated the ground as men lied on the ground with swords stuck between the plating of their armor begging for help or mercy. Everything was a blur of sound, motion, and the color red. All Edward could do was stand there and watch. His feet were frozen to the ground as men from the English soldiers raced forward to protect the throne. A light sword hung in his hand, one of the most decorated yet least blood coated, the sword of Gryffindor. Edward hung to it for dear life as he tried to force his body to move forward. He needed to move, he needed to move! Yet as he tried to force himself he found that his feet had been glued to the ground and his muscles had become petrified._

_A man crashed down to the ground in front of him, his body limp and his head smashed in from a heavy sword. Blood poured out from the distorted helmet and Edward felt his stomach turn as the man’s hand reached out for him. A light cross dangled from his wrist as his rosary was gripped for dear life. A scared gurgle came out of the man’s throat as his head hit the ground and he lied limp. Edward couldn’t help but scream._

_“Edward, you need to move!” he heard Roy command him. “You are a sitting duck just waiting to die. MOVE!”_

_Edward found his foot stumble forward and his other one followed. The crowd pushed him onwards towards the brawl. Soldiers screamed at him to lift his sword and fight, but the only thing that he could focus on was the heaps of corpses cooking in the heat from their own armor. The more Edward continued into the fray, the more he felt like he was joining them._

_“LOOK OUT!” a voice called him, snapping him out of his dazed hysteria. Edward looked up just in time to see a man with a pike charging him from the front lines. He lifted the Professor’s sword and parried the pike out of the way and yet the man kept running at him as if unable to stop from his own momentum. There was a sudden force as the man charged into him and the two of them fell to the hot ground, the weight of their armor crushing down upon them. Edward’s chainmail was no protection against the brute force of the crazed man’s plate armor and he felt the air easily knocked out of him as his back slammed against the earth. He opened his mouth and gasped for air just to find himself choking on metallic blood he was sure wasn’t his own. The dark skin of the man on top of him poked out beneath the helmet on his head. Blank cold eyes stared off into his golden one’s as blood dribbled out of his mouth in a small stream onto Edward’s face. In a panic Edward pushed as hard as he could to roll the dead man off of him. The sword of gryffindor was lodged in the throat of the corpse as the man must have run into it during his effort to spear him. Edward felt his stomach finally lose the battle as he bent over and vomited into the pool of blood the man was quickly making. A sob wracked his body as all of the strength in his legs vanished into thin air and he collapsed quickly to the ground. Tears clouded his eyes and all Edward could do was clutch the ground and like everyone else he was fighting beside and join the screams of fear, pain, and prayer that had engulfed the battle field in a matter of minutes. Roy yelled at him, the effort he was putting in to conceal his own panic very evident in his voice. He needed to move, he needed to keep moving, and yet Edward could do nothing but lay there even as another stranger in armor drove a great sword through his skull._

…...

BANG!

Edward let out a scream as he jolted awake. He felt his face smack off of the stone floor of his chambers as he fell out of bed in his fright. He groaned and cursed as he gripped his nose and tried to massage the pain out of it. There was a tousle of feathers and Edward looked up and glared at the large barn owl in his room which was perched amongst the shattered glass of his window. It stood there in the mess, ruffling its feathers a bit and grooming them with its beaks trying to right itself from the accident it just had. It was as if the bird was completely oblivious it broke through his window.

“Get over here you piece of shit,” Edward growled at it as he tried to distract himself from his previous nightmare. He could feel his shirt sticking to his back from cold sweat and his hand shook slightly in the fright, but he tried to focus on the bird and not his dream as he would have rather got stuck in the present than the past. The bird fluttered over the glass to where he was laying with only a couple beats of its wings. Feathers flew everywhere and Edward felt one of the large wings beat him in the face as if the bird wasn’t conscious of its own wingspan. It was obviously new to the post delivery world. He pushed the thing grumpily away and he untied the letter and the small package from the bird’s leg.  He found it odd that he was getting mail. It was a rare occasion to get even a letter a year. He didn’t even know who would ever think of writing him anything. Surely all of the people he knew well enough to keep in contact with were dead or Flamel. If Flamel tried writing him he was sure to throw it right into the fire.

“Okay who sent you?” Edward sighed as he opened the letter, setting the small leather pouch off to the side. He found it odd that it had the Hogwart’s seal on it. Why would they waste time sending him a letter? He was trapped there for heaven’s sake! The letter was short and brief, written in rather flourished letters as if attempting to appear formal when it seemed to be rather of a notice.

            _Dear Mr. Elric,_

_Minerva has brought it to my attention that you have not been paid yet for your stay at Hogwarts. She was concerned for your welfare and I took it upon myself to make sure you are benefitting from your stay here. Your first pay is contained with this letter._

_Albus Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

Edward crushed the letter in his hand as he read Dumbledore’s name. That sly son of a bitch. He had no intention of giving him anything for his entrapment there. It was only the transfiguration professor’s input that made him address the situation.

“Took it upon myself-BAH! What a load of bull shit,” Edward muttered to himself as he tossed the letter into the waste bin near the bed. He couldn’t believe that man. However, as much as he was loathing Dumbledore at that moment, he couldn’t help but be grateful that Minerva had taken his statement yesterday seriously enough to inquire about it. He honestly didn’t care about the money. Being so old, interest in his bank account accumulated over the years and he was sure that he was the cause of the Great Depression in 1929. He honestly didn’t know what to do with it all and he didn’t care to check up on his standings in forever. Getting paid would have just given him more money that was already useless to him. He looked back down at the leather bag and opened it up. There was a decent amount in there, mostly galleons with a few sickles in the mix to add up the difference. As he couldn’t go anywhere to spend it, it would have just sat in his desk drawer accumulating mass as his future paychecks came in.

_“Brother what are you going to do with it?”_ Alphonse asked him curiously as he stood up from the floor and dragged himself over to his desk. He pulled out a quill and a small piece of parchment and started to write a quick note. He signed it at the bottom and quickly handed it off back to the barn owl along with the pouch of coins. The bird nipped at his fingers when it took the packages and in a flutter of feathers made its way back out of the shattered window.

“Nothing,” Edward muttered as he stood up from his desk and started to get ready for the day, ignoring the mess of shattered glass on the floor of his room. He put on his simple jacket and slacks and braided his hair before heading out of his chambers, leaving his room a mess and his nightmare behind him.

He had a few pieces of parchment tucked under his one arm, his textbook in progress under the other, and a quill with some ink cupped delicately in his hand as he strode through the castle towards the Great Hall for breakfast. He wanted to get a head start on his classes, even though he would be sacrificing a quiet breakfast to do so. With teaching Organic Chemistry he needed to actually make lesson plans. Being an expert on the subject, he already knew what to teach and when, it was the how that was difficult. How was he going to get wizards and witches to understand a subject that was even difficult for the greater part of the muggle population was above him, but for the sake of his own head he needed to figure it out. There was also the issue with the text book. He was almost done with the book with the help of Mustang, Alphonse, and Hohenheim, but he needed to actually configure it together. Once he got the last few chapters done it would be just a pile of papers instead of a bound book. And then there was the issue of copying it for the masses.

“ _Brother, don’t drop the ink!”_ Alphonse exclaimed as Edward nearly tripped over a tiny house elf who was on its way back towards the kitchens. He muttered out an apology which just made the elf run a little faster away.

“This is why I need a pen,” he grumbled as he found a new grip on his in well and pushed the door to the Great Hall open.

_“This is why you need to watch where you are going,”_ his brother chuckled lightly, making a small smile form on his lips. The hall was empty but newly set as the dishes were brimming with breakfast, steaming and hot. He was the first one in being so early and he was rather grateful for the peace and quiet. Shuffling his way to the High table he set down his papers and filled a plate lightly with eggs-

_“You need to eat more than that.”_

-with more eggs and set it down to begin his work. He started on his class lecture since he would need that first thing in the morning with his classes. He wished that Minerva didn’t force him to teach a class because it was a lot easier when he didn’t have to do anything. At the rate that the students were figuring out the first law, Edward had some hope that organic chemistry was the only thing he would be teaching that semester.

_“Nomenclature? Wouldn’t it be easier to do a periodic table analysis first? Some of them don’t know anything on chemistry,”_ Alphonse challenged him as Edward wrote out his lesson plan.

“Oh yeah. Damn it. This is going to take forever! We are going to have to go all the way back to block one and start from scratch!” Edward whined as he crossed out his work. “I don’t understand how wizards can’t know this. It’s so simple-”

“ _This is why you shouldn’t have picked Organic, brother.”_

“Organic is simple!”

“ _Only for you.”_

“Bah!” Edward exclaimed as he grumpily shoveled a spoonful of eggs into his mouth. It was steamy and warm, igniting his insides and cooling his aching limbs. Edward glanced outside and noticed that the sky was still dark even for early morning. Clouds threatened a storm and his ports seemed to know it. He groaned as he took another bite of his eggs letting the warmth calm his nerves. It was good, but he could still remember Pinako’s stew. She would always make it for him when he was home and knew a storm was coming. It was not only his favorite but it helped him relax just a little bit. A storm was just never the same without it.

“ _Brother?”_ Alphonse asked curiously. It seemed that he felt the change in his emotion. Edward frowned and looked back down to his parchment.

“Nothing-”

_“I miss it too,”_ he said, a weak reminiscing sense of happiness flickering from him. Edward felt it and it just made him a little more sad. _“I still have a list of food to try when we get back.”_

“I bet all of you do now,” Edward mumbled sadly.

_“Even you have one brother. I know it.”_

“Yeah,” he replied softly. “Someday we will get back. There just has to be something I am missing-”

_“Why don’t we go to the library this evening?”_

“Pshh, Alphonse you know I already read all of the books in that damn place.”

“ _So? The words might be the same but it might bring about new ideas. I can help-”_

“Al, I know you haven’t been out in a while but I don’t know how much this storm is going to take out of me. I can’t promise that you would be able to come out tonight-”

_“But… but it could just be for a little bit. Please brother?”_

"If not tonight, tomorrow for sure. I just don’t want to bring you out and not be able to spend anytime with you cause I am in the hospital ward!” Edward exclaimed lightly with a small smile. He heard his brother chuckle weakly in response. It was obvious that Alphonse was disappointed, and Edward was upset for making him feel that way. He had been trapped in the stone for over 600 years and only had a small glimpse of salvation the night that Edward found him. He was only out for a couple hours before Edward needed to return him back to the stone. He couldn't imagine being trapped in the stone for so long without an outlet of any sort. He couldn't picture being trapped in it at all. A small jolt of pain rode up his arm and Edward winced as he massaged his shoulder. With the closer the storm came the worse his hopes of bringing Alphonse out of the stone looked.

" _Brother you should see the nurse about your limbs. Maybe she can help_ ," Alphonse advised. " _You won't be able to teach very well once the storm rolls in."_

"The only thing she really can give me are potions and none of them are strong enough. By the time we make some I can take the storm will be over. I just need to wait," Edward muttered as he picked his quill back up, seeing that the ink had dripped over his parchment when he wasn't looking. "Besides, if I am sick I don't have to teach-"

" _Brother-"_

"Hey, it’s one or the other. I don't want either. If you knew what it felt like-"

"Mr. Elric who are you talking to?"  a voice interrupted him. Edward looked behind him, only slightly startled to see Minerva standing there. She had her own stack of papers in her hand as if she had the same idea to work at breakfast. Rounding the table, she took her seat across from him in the otherwise empty hall.

"Oh.. uh-"

"Don't tell me it was your brother again. You were very upset the last time you talked to him," she said a little hesitantly. Edward remembered when Minerva barged in on him in his classroom at the beginning of the year. She was rather startled and didn't understand who he was talking to. He didn't quite think she believed him when he told her it was his brother. He doubted that telling her the truth would make her understand any more. When you talk to someone who doesn't appear to be there, you look a little crazy.

"Uhm… yes?" Edward answered hesitantly, very pressured by Minerva's expectation of an explainable answer. However, he didn't feel like going into great detail with it. She looked up from her work with a raised eyebrow, studying him as if to find some sanity in him. Edward turned his head back down to his work not wanting to be stared at longer than he had to be.

"Edward, for your wellbeing and others I wish you would tell me the truth-"

"This is the truth!" he retorted. "It's just complicated-"

"Then try to make this complicated issue easier for us to understand. If you want help, with anything-"

_"Brother, you can show her-"_

" _I am not letting you out yet Alphonse. I already told you this."_ Edward scolded his brother in old tongue which just made the transfigurations professor more confused. "Look, I am old, not crazy-"

"You are growing a little harder to believe when you say that," Minerva replied when suddenly Edward heard the low thrum of thunder through the walls of the castle. The aches in his limbs became fully conscious to him and he groaned lightly. He looked up to the enchanted ceiling and saw that the sky had opened up and rain started to fall. He cursed as he picked up his papers from the table and quickly tucked them underneath his arm. He had to cross the suspension bridge in order to get to his class. He better leave now before he would have to sprint across in the pouring rain and get his papers more wet than they had to be. Giving a quick dismissal, he turned out of the Great Hall as the first sign of students started to flood in and made his leave.

" _Oh my god! Brother look!"_ Alphonse exclaimed as he went out into the Entrance Hall and passed the corridor that lead to the basements. An overwhelming sense of eagerness came from inside him that was so strong it made Edward stop in his place. Alphonse was getting excited and Edward was slightly scared with its magnitude. He didn't even have to see what Alphonse noticed as he heard a low soft call coming from the corner of the hall. Edward’s eyes widened as he listened to it.

Oh no, he thought.

He turned his head towards where the sound was coming from and saw a raggy old cat creeping up the staircase from the dungeons. It rounded the corner and sat near the wall patiently, unaware of the danger it posed just being there. Edward felt his muscles suddenly twitch out of his control and he tried to fight them back. He quickly tried to continue his way towards the Great Hall but he finally felt the inevitable tug in his chest of a force overpowering him.   
“Oh shi-” he started but never got to finish as his body lunged out of his control.   
……..  
Minerva sat at the High Table grading tests from her second year class. She felt a little off sitting there after her conversation with Edward. He was talking to himself again which greatly unsettled her. Dumbledore had told her that it was just something that Edward did but she was worried for him nonetheless. Who he was talking to and why it always seemed to make him upset was beyond her. He said it was his brother but no one was there. There was no form of wizard communication that one could just talk into thin air and be heard… at least that she knew of. She desperately wanted him to take her concern seriously and to see someone about it.

"What delightful event have I missed that has gotten you so down?" she heard Severus' slimy sarcasm behind her. She sent him a tight-lipped glare as she returned to her work.

"Quiet Severus. It has nothing to do with you. I am just pondering Mr. Elric's habit of talking to himself."

"A sure sign of insanity," Severus said mockingly as if he didn't believe her. "If you want him to get looked at, you would do much more good helping him get over his fear of the dungeons. Maybe next time he wouldn't destroy my packages-"

"Fear of the dungeons? He didn't say anything about that to me when I was in his classroom-"

"And why would he tell you?" Severus asked her.

"Because… Because," Minerva started to try and find a reason but she shook her head angrily at Severus trying to get back on topic. "Something's wrong with him, Severus. He says that he is talking to his brother when no one is there. With him being so old, his brother is probably deceased! Aren't you concerned-"

"I am concerned about his presence here in the castle but not for the subject of him talking to himself," Severus said simply as he took seat down next to her.

"You believe him?!" Minerva exclaimed in shock. Severus was the last person she would have expected to have taken the Eastern Sage's word for anything. He seemed suspicious and wary of the man ever since he came to the castle. For him to believe something so absurd was beyond her.

"I saw his 'brother' the first night he was here. Whether it truly is or isn't his brother I have yet to figure out, but he is talking to someone," he stated flatly making her frown.

"You saw him?! How-"

"He has the stone, Minerva. Things always aren't as they appear. I am sure we will all get an explanation soon as to who the Eastern Sage is and what powers the stone has even if we must pry it out of him. However, for now the only thing we can do is wait… at least one  full lunar cycle that is-"

"You are _not_ using veritaserum on Mr. Elric!" Minerva scolded him under her breath, giving him light whap on the shoulder as if to knock some sense into him. "He is a teacher like anyone of us. You wouldn't use it on anyone else in the castle-" she started but Severus looked away as if he lost interest in the conversation. He picked up his plate and got up to leave. Minerva's eyes widened and mouth dropped open in shock. "You wouldn't would you? Severus? Severus!" she shouted after him but the man left as quietly as he came. Minerva growled to herself. That man always knew what buttons to push to ruffle her feathers. That conversation got her nowhere except in finding that Edward was more troubled than she originally thought. She wanted desperately to know more about him but the man was very closed off with everything.

 

Suddenly she heard a light commotion coming from the Entrance Hall and she looked up to see a few of the early rising students running out in the hallway to look at something. Whispered gossiping picked up and she knew that something was the matter. Picking up her robes she quickly got up from the table and marched towards the doors of the Great Hall. If the Weasley twins thought it funny to steal beads out of the Slytherin Hourglass, she at least wanted to see it before she gave them due punishment. With Severus' conversation she just had she might pretend not to see it at all. As she got out into the Entrance Hall she looked around to see the few students and professors who filled the hall looking and pointing to the corner of the place, whispering to each other nervously. Minerva did not expect what she saw when she turned her head.   
            The young-looking alchemy professor was sitting on the stone floor with Mrs. Norris the cat trapped in his arms. Pieces of parchment and a spilled well of ink scattered the floor around him as if he just forgot that he was holding them. He wore a genuine smile on his face that radiated brighter than his golden hair as he nuzzled the poor thing. Mrs. Norris, a usually grumpy cat that matched the ill-tempered caretaker’s personality, seemed to enjoy the presence of the new addition to the Hogwarts staff. It was absurd to see all around. Edward Elric, the Eastern Sage no less, was a professor that insulted and frightened his students and intimidated the staff to no end. He was an immortal being who was written about in the legends and history books. The Eastern Sage did not cuddle cats, talk nonsense to it nonetheless! The students crowded around him and Minerva had to force her way through in order to get to the mess. The young Colin Creevey had his camera out and was taking pictures, ones that she would have to quickly confiscate afterwards.   
“Edward…. Edward....Mr. Elric!!” Minerva called out as she approached the man. He didn’t seem to acknowledge her until she practically screamed at him. His golden eyes looked up, a tint of pure happiness in them. He looked at her a little confused as if he didn’t recognise her right away.   
“Edward, what on earth are you doing?” she asked as he stood up, still holding Mrs. Norris. She heard a faint sound coming from the animal and realised that it was purring. For a cat who has been around seemingly ages, that was the first time Minerva ever heard Mrs. Norris purr!  
“Oh uh… McGonagall was it?” the man asked as if he forgotten her name. “I just saw this cat and… well I couldn’t help myself,” he answered with a weak nervous grin.   
“Edward, do you mind putting Mrs. Norris down?” Minerva stated more than asked. She was rather concerned for the man’s health, more mentally than physically. He looked at her as if wondering what she said until something clicked in his mind.   
“Oh, I am not Edward. I am his brother, Alphonse,” he said, shuffling the weight of the cat in his arms and holding out his hand to her. Minerva looked down at it and back at him. She was so utterly confused as to what was going on. Surely that was Edward standing in front of her. Before she could take him up on his introduction, or question what was wrong with him, there was a shout from the staircase leading to the dungeons.   
“You there? What in the bloody hell are you doing with my cat?!” Filch’s angry voice shouted out. Mrs. Norris squirmed in Elric’s hold, which one Minerva still had yet to decide. “What are you doing to her! Trying to kidnap her? Drop her over a bridge? I had enough of you people trying to taunt Mrs. Norris! Let her go!” the man raged as he ripped his pet out of his arms. Mrs. Norris’s purring stopped but Filch just cuddled her as if trying to soothe her. “There, there Mrs. Norris. No one’s going to harm you-”  
“Um… sir, i wasn’t going to do any of those things. I was just.. Arggh!” Elric groaned suddenly as he clutched his head as if a migraine had suddenly come over him. He bent over with a low growl under the pain of his sudden ailment. Though it was quite obvious to Minerva that something was wrong with him, Filch seemed none the wiser. With a few choice words warning the professor to stay away from his cat, he sped off to where he came from taking Mrs. Norris with him. Suddenly Elric jolted up in an angry rage yelling at no one in a foreign tongue. Minerva took a step back as it seemed the man went completely mad.   
“Mr. Elric-”  
“What?” the man groaned out, the grumpy usual self striking her with his cold golden eyes. Minerva couldn’t help but just try to close her mouth at the shock of it all. It seemed that the strangeness had subsided and the normal Elric was back, though looking more angry than usual.   
“Are you alright?” she asked taken back by the whole ordeal.   
“No,” he growled out stiffly as he pushed his way past her. He looked up, seeming to have noticed all of the other people in the hall staring at them and he scolded with rather colorful language for them to mind their own business. The students all quickly scattered away to gossip more out of the sight of their new topic. Edward grumbled to himself as he straightened out his jacket and dusted it off from sitting on the floor.   
“Mr. Elric, what happened? If you are not alright, this includes mentally, I need to know! I will not have this kind of absurdity amongst the students!” she yelled at him stiffly. The man seemed to freeze in his place for a second as if registering what he was listening to. He turned around, the anger in his eyes igniting into a fire and Minerva felt herself straighten out to challenge it.   
“Are you calling me insane?!” he asked as if it was blasphemous.  
“Well I am not saying that you aren’t!” she retorted defensively.  
 “The only thing insane about any of this is that my brother would do something as callous as taking his own brother’s body!” he yelled though to Minerva it appeared not to be directed towards her at all. The new professor continued to rage in an odd language and there appeared to be no end to it.   
“Edward, this is precisely why you appear to be unstable! Who is this brother of yours?! You argue with him, and emotionally break down when talking to him. Is he a figure of your imagination or just a voice in your head?! I want to know, for your well being and the rest of ours!! You are scaring the students!” she scolded. Edward glared at her and opened his mouth to seemingly explain but closed it again and shook his head. He quickly took a few steps back into the Entrance hall and clapped his hands. Minerva knew the power of alchemy now that she had seen him use it a couple of times in her presence but it still amazed her as she watched the stone morph and take its shape. The professor appeared to have made an old suit of armor from the stone. It stood menacingly tall and Minerva felt intimidated by its presence. Suddenly out of nowhere a bright red light ignited and an intricate runed circle started to etch its way around the figure through the air. She held her breath as the jagged blood red light formed, creating a haunting glow about the armor. Edward clapped his hands once more and touched his chest a flaming pulse igniting from it just to latch on and dance around his finger tips. He casted it through the circle at the armor where it seemingly bound to it in a bright fury of light. When all was said and done and the light was extinguished Edward let out an angry growl and threw his arm towards the figure.   
“Here he is, my asshole of a brother!” he raged. "There Al! You get what you want! I hope you're happy." After a rather loud kick to the armor's shins he stormed off back up the staircase into the depths of the castle. He had a noticeable limp to him that he was trying to fight. Minerva turned to watch him leave but to her surprise so did the armor.   
“Brother!” the armor called after him but the elder Elric was gone. With a sigh the armor turned to her and quickly apologised, shocking her to her core. Suits of armor were able to be enchanted to move but none seemed to have any actual valid forms of consciousness. Seeing the armor not only move but talk, and have conscious memory was a whole new magic that Minerva was not aware of. To put it plainly, she was a bit startled.   
“I am Alphonse Elric, his brother,” the armor reintroduced himself now in a body of metal instead of Edward’s. Minerva tried to close her mouth but she found that it was near impossible as she shook his hand. Severus and Dumbledore had informed her of the Sage’s armored figures but she thought it only to be enchantments. She didn’t imagine them to be like this…. Nor so polite.   
“I am sorry about my brother. It… It’s kind of my fault,” he answered, a light tint of shame flowing through him. “I just… I haven’t had a physical body in years and… I kind of got excited and… overwhelmed him. It isn’t like me. I promised I would never do it but… God who am I kidding. I haven’t felt a cat in ages! It was amazing!” Alphonse ended in sheer enjoyment like a little kid who just got off his first broom ride.  
“Mr. … Mr. Elric, pardon me but… you are just confusing me all the more,” Minerva said tersely. “You are really his brother?” she asked and the armor nodded its hollow head.  Minerva covered her mouth in shock as she took a few steps back. The armor covered them quickly, seeming upset with her reaction.   
“Professor, I am sorry. It’s kind of hard to explain. He wanted to but... This is all my fault,” Alphonse whined softly as he shook his head. He seemed to really regret what had happened even though in the moment it was all the joy he had imagined it to be. “I need to see if brother’s alright-”  
“Mr. Elric I don’t think that would be a very good idea,” Minerva called stopping the suit of armor from chasing after the professor. “The last time I talked to him in such a state-”  
“He was talking to me. I… I didn’t know what had happened when Flamel… He was just informing me. We haven’t seen each other in 600 years, professor. I was here.”  
“Here?” Minerva questioned him, pushing for answers. The armor shifted around nervously and nodded his head. Though he stood tall because of his structure the armor’s posture indicated one of a young boy, upset and scared. Minerva frowned. The Elrics just gave her more questions than answers to those she already had. She didn’t know much about how to deal with an ancient legend, but she knew how to deal with children. She held out her hand and took the armor’s large leather one into her own. “I invited your brother to tea. It seemed to do him good. Now you will join me for a cup.”  
“But… I can’t drink-”  
“You don’t need to drink tea to know what it has to offer.”  
…….  
Lightning struck outside as the rain hammered the windows of Edward's chamber bathroom, threatening to shatter the grass. Edward bent over the toilet and quickly emptied his stomach of everything he had for breakfast. His body felt like all of his energy had just evaporated from him and was being sucked out through his ports on his automail. His legs felt weak as the pain throbbed through his limbs and to the rest of his body. This storm was worse than he had originally thought and now having put Alphonse in the armor, he had less will to fight it with. He groaned as he sat back from the bowl and pulled his legs in tighter. He gently started to run his fingers through his hair trying to calm his mind down from his aches and pains. He cursed his brother as a shiver went down his spine.

“ _Edward, you know he didn’t mean it,”_ Winry called to him softly, trying to comfort him in the only way she could, with words. _“He just got excited. You know how he is. He didn’t realise-”_

“I know. I know!” Edward bit, more towards himself than those lying within the stone. His stomach hurt and it felt like his body wouldn't stop shaking. He was still soaking wet from his walk across the suspension bridge to the Dark Art's tower. He hadn't the life left in him to change. He remembered the storms back in Resembool how Pinako would help him when he got terribly ill. She would run a hot bath and make him some light soup to warm him up. But now, he had no one to help him but himself.  “I know why. I shouldn’t be mad. You live like this every day while I get to stay in my body. I know why he did it but-”

_“You aren’t mad, Edward, you are scared.”_ he heard the voice of his father say stiffly. The man wasn’t one for gentleness but Edward could tell when he was trying anyways. _“That was a lot of pressure to put you under. It was-”_

“Too much like the mask,” Edward whispered, finishing the statement for him. He remembered the feeling of weightlessness as Alphonse switched ownership with him. It felt like he was being pulled back into a tornado of hopelessness. The mixture of every soul’s emotions, fears, bound all into one solution. Edward’s own only added to the chaos. He couldn’t hear anything out of his own rampaging thoughts. He couldn’t touch, feel. He was in his own solitary confinement with a million other people suffering through their own. Just imagining it all over again made him nauseous and he bent back over the bowl to release the fear he had built up inside of him. His body quaked and shivered as he found even more energy drained from him and he collapsed back down to the stone floor. He felt cold just lying there and he grew more frustrated than ever.

“I-I don’t know how you do it! I just can’t!" he growled weakly as water built up in his eyes. He furiously tried to wipe it away but he knew that no one was around to watch. "Every memory just takes me down and I can’t handle it anymore. Being here in this castle is driving me crazy. I can’t look around a corner without thinking of what happened here. I don’t know why I can’t handle this if you live in this hell every hour of the day!” Edward exclaimed. “When I was pulled in… I thought that was the end.”

“ _We fight a different battle than you do. We learned to tune out our spiritual pains while you learned how to habituate your physical ones,”_ Hohenheim explained. _“No matter how many times you get pulled in Edward, this isn’t your battle to fight. Alphonse knows this and shouldn’t have pulled you into it.”_

_“Edward, you have been through a lot. We keep telling you this. But you need to know that those are just memories and they can’t hurt you,”_ Winry added.

“They’re just so real. It’s been nearly a millenia and I can’t rid myself of any of them-”

“ _Edward, just calm down and relax. You are straining yourself,"_ she ordered him as Edward felt his chest heave with a sob. He dropped his face into his hands as he was ashamed for crying. Yet, curling up with his back resting against the side of the tub, he wept. He could feel the emotions of everyone in the stone and some of them were afraid, some of them were upset, but he felt a strong sense of concern floating out from his friends who couldn't do anything about it because they were trapped inside of him. They were trapped inside a torment of souls and yet he was greedy enough, too scared enough to let them actually feel human again inside his own body. He couldn't let them use a body that could feel, eat, taste, touch, because the only one that they could use was his own.

"Damn it all!" he cursed as he wiped his eyes on his jacket in vain as the wet fabric only made his face more damp. "Why can't something good happen for once, huh?!" he argued at nothing.

" _Edward, please. Everything is alright. It might be different, but everything is alright. Please, please calm down. Go lie down and relax a little,"_ Winry said softly through his frustrated cries. Edward wanted to ignore her and to stay pathetically curled up on the bathroom floor but the urging and comforting words from the residents of the stone made him give in. He sniffled as he pushed himself up to his feet. He stumbled and staggered as his legs quaked underneath him. He dared take a step and then another one as he forced himself to follow his friend's encouraging instructions towards his bed. The instant he was within an arms reach he collapsed down on it, not caring he was only half way resting on it. As his head hit the pillow he felt all of his left over energy wash out of him. His stomach churned and he felt a horrible heat come over him. Groaning he curled his legs up to his chest to ease the pain he felt in his body.

The rain pattered against the window pane and a loud roll of thunder shook the glass. He glared out of the high glass window. Lightning flashed against the clouds as if in retaliation and Edward found himself growling at it in frustration.

 "Damn you Truth and your fucking exchange," he found himself wanting to yell but it only came out in a harsh whisper. The souls of over a million people trapped inside of him without hope of escape, some having no prior knowledge of alchemy at all. Edward couldn't find the equivalence. It wasn't fair. Angry tears filled his eyes and he felt the damnation of his position hit him all over again. He couldn't even find a way home.

" _Edward, everything will be alright,"_ Winry whispered, her voice pulling him into a near trance. Whenever she said that it made her actually believe that it might just be. But no, it wasn't. No matter how he looked at it they were still stuck in the stone and he still had no way of getting back. There was no equivalence in anything. Yet, he let himself listen to her say it over and over again, willing it to be true. " _Everything will be alright."_

………..

Alphonse waited for the transfigurations professor to reply. She just sat across the desk from him and stared as if trying to digest what he had told her. It seemed to be processing, just very slowly.

"So you… don't have a body. And live inside of your brother?" she asked him. He nodded his head in confirmation just sending the room back into its previous silence. He felt very awkward sitting there like a student and he wished for anything just to go back to his brother and apologise. He needed to find him. Minerva leaned forward in her chair and resituated herself as if she was finally satisfied with an answer. "When he talks to himself it really is you, and you're not a physical figment of his imagination?"

"No. It's really me. Why would you think that?" Minerva shrugged apologetically as she took a shaky sip of her tea, the shock still settling in for her.

"It is amazing what people can conjure up. I am not familiar enough with alchemy to be able to understand this fully," she replied simply. They sat there through another string of silence. And Alphonse found himself picking up the teacup that sat in front of him. He watched the steam float off the top of the hot drink and yet he could feel nothing outside of that cold suit of armor. He remembered when he had control of Edward's body. Even for those few minutes it was pure ecstasy. He could breath, he could smell, he could feel. Just remembering how the cat's fur felt between his fingers made him want to smile. It made him yearn to do it all over again. Yet, he couldn't. He couldn't do that to his brother. He knew how cold it was inside the armor and he knew what it felt like inside the stone. He cursed himself for even being foolish enough to try something so stupid. He would never wish that upon his brother, the one who gave him so much just to keep him there. A shiver trickled down his armor and Alphonse quickly set down the cup, not wanting to imagine the feeling ever again. He had gone so long already without a body. He could wait a little longer until they got home…. Whenever that would be. A feeling of homesickness quickly grew inside of him. When he was inside of the stone he was surrounded by friends, out here, he felt more alone than ever and farther away from Amestris than he had ever felt before. He had forgotten in the 600 years he had been apart from Edward, how it actually felt to be alone with one's thoughts. How easily it was to become lonely.

"Mr. Elric," Minerva interrupted, snapping him from his thoughts. "I apologise for pressing your brother so much. I was just worried. Seeing him interact with himself was quite strange and it unsettled even some of the students. Now hearing from Severus that he was afraid of the dungeons. I didn't realise how far I have been pushing him over the past few weeks, let alone the last day!"

"We… We have been trying to get brother to open up a bit but… he is so reluctant sometimes. Yet he did manage to actually go down into the dungeons… which he hasn't been able to do in forever since our first day here. And he actually seems to like to talk to you and a couple of the other professors-"

"Could have fooled me," Minerva scoffed lightly, though a small smile played on the very corner of her lips. Alphonse chuckled nervously.

"Y-yeah… he isn't used to talking to anyone but us really. Enough bad things had happened to us that… I think he just wants to tune everyone out in hopes that they won't happen again," Alphonse muttered.

"You seem to have a lot happen to you, and at such a young age-"

"Oh, we are older than we look-"

"I know," she replied sadly. "I can't even begin to imagine what life you two lead but I hope it turns around soon. It looks like your brother can use something good in his life about now."

"I feel like the only thing that will make anything better is if we can get home. It has been ages since we have been back. I am almost starting to forget what it looks like," Alphonse replied sadly. "I think Brother's forgetting too."

"If you need we can make a request-"

"It isn't that simple. If it was, my brother and the rest of us wouldn’t be trapped in this castle. We would have made it home over half a millenia ago."

“Wait, trapped?” Minerva questioned, catching the word’s odd use.  Alphonse had thought that all of the faculty knew about it. They were trapped inside the stone walls and couldn’t leave. It seemed then that Dumbledore was not being completely honest on his agenda to even his most closest allies. But with less people knowing, that also meant less people willing to help. Alphonse hesitated on telling her. Dumbledore was not a bad man though his actions challenged that statement. If he didn’t want the professors to know there had to be a reason. However, he, his brother, and everyone else in the stone were sick of the man’s games. They should not have been kept there against their will when they had more important things to deal with. He decided that in the best intrest of the entire population of Amestris as well as a few old Xerxian souls, that it was best to tell the professor in hopes that she could help them.

“Yes, trapped. Dumbledore-“ Alphonse started but could not finish as a sudden loud clash of thunder startled him and he jolted up out of his seat. He looked out of the classroom window and saw the rain pouring out into the courtyard. It was vicious and looked to be a pretty bad storm. He suddenly let out a gasp as he remembered his conversation earlier with his brother at the breakfast table.

"Oh no!" he exclaimed as he quickly forgot his previous conversation and pushed his chair in. "I-I am sorry. I forgot. I need to get back to brother-"

"Why-"

"He-he gets terribly ill during storms like this. I-I am sorry I need to leave-" Alphonse started but then stopped as he looked around. He didn't know where he was. Surely he knew he was in the transfigurations classroom. Edward had been navigating the castle long enough for Alphonse to internalize a map of it, but walking around it by himself was different. He wasn't quite sure of himself. He turned quickly back to Minerva and shuffled back to the desk. "Please… Professor, can you please show me to his classroom. I...I-" he begged her and she stood up immediately as she didn't want to waste any time.

"Follow me," she said stiffly though her eyes betrayed all of the concern her voice did not. She walked briskly, almost so quickly that Alphonse had trouble keeping up. They wound their way through the castle and up two floors to the third level. Though they were making quick pace, Alphonse felt fear build up in him as he felt it was taking too long. He needed to get to his brother and apologise. He needed to make sure he was alright. Feeling incredibly foolish for sending his brother into such stress, his legs just moved faster, the metal making loud and very audible clunks down the corridor. They made a cut through the armory and Alphonse refused to look at the figures standing against the walls at the position of attention.

"It's right here-" Minerva started but faltered as she noticed a giant crowd of students around the door, waiting to be let in. It appeared to be Edward's second year class as Alphonse recognised the Potter boy nearly immediately. "What's going on here?" Minerva demanded, grabbing the students attention.

"Where is Professor Elric?" one of the ravenclaws asked. "We are supposed to have class and I think I figured out the-"

"So he's not here?" she asked for confirmation and the students nodded their heads. She turned to Alphonse and motioned for him to follow. "If he isn't here, let's hope he's in his chambers," she said. "Come Mr. Elric." Alphonse eagerly followed, leaving the students in confusion as they made their way farther down the corridor of the Dark Art's tower. They came upon  large rather ugly looking portrait and the transfigurations professor had no trouble opening it with a wave of her wand. They stormed in to find the floor covered in puddles of water. The room was eerily quiet and Alphonse looked around around the large chamber, afraid that his brother wasn't there but then he saw a limp form curled up on the corner of the bed. Alphonse gasped as he ran over to him, his armor clanking all the way. His brother seemingly flinched with the sound but to the best of his knowledge, Edward was unconscious. His knees fell to the floor as he leaned over the side of the bed where his brother was collapsed. Edward was soaking wet, his clothes drenched from the storm. His wet golden hair was loosened out of its braid and plastered to his face. He was trembling from the cold and resembled something of a wet cat. Alphonse heard Minerva's footsteps enter behind him, a gasp coming from her own lips.

"Oh my," she whispered as she was quick to join him by Edward's side. She laid her hand over Edward's forehead to check his temperature, that was something Alphonse was very grateful for because he couldn't do it. He cursed his body as he couldn't even use it to find the extent of his brother's ailments.

"He's burning up. We need to get him to the-"

"The nurse can't help," Alphonse whined as he picked up his brother in his arms. Edward noticeably withdrew from his cold armor and Alphonse felt himself growing desperate to find someone or something to make him feel better. It was obvious he was not the one to do it. "Nothing but a super concentrated potion would really work for him. His body has too strong of a resistance-"

"Then I will get Severus! He would be able to make something within the hour. We will take him to the Hospital Ward and then Severus can start making something," she said as she quickly ushered him out of the room but Alphonse quickly grabbed one of the blankets off of the rocking chair that was sitting by the unlit fireplace. He wrapped his shivering brother in the wool blanket hoping to at least keep him warm and dry. "How on earth did he get like this?" Minerva asked as she saw what he was trying to do. She waved her wand over Edward's clothes, drying him off for him. Alphonse nodded his head in gratitude.

"His automail always hurts him when the weather changes but during a bad storm it makes him sick," Alphonse explained, turning towards the door now with a drier Edward in his arms. His brother was still trembling though, which made him even more scared. "He normally would be fine but with a storm of this magnitude… and he spent a lot of energy placing me in my armor. It made him weak."

When the portrait opened again there were a pile of students waiting on the other side. They must have followed them, wondering about their professor or at least their class. They probably didn't know if their class was cancelled or just delayed but they seemed to have gotten their answer now. Their eyes were wide in shock as they saw Alphonse come out with their professor wrapped in his arms. Edward looked pale and Alphonse knew he looked terrible but he ignored the students concerns and started towards the Hospital Ward.

"What are you doing here? Class is cancelled! Give them some space!" Minerva scolded the students before she hurried after him and pointed him down the correct hallway. Alphonse heard three sets of footsteps behind him and only took a second to glance back to see the three Gryffindor students Edward was always griping about.

"Professor, is he going to be alright?" Harry asked curiously.

"He is going to be fine, Potter. He's just ill. Nothing a potion can't fix…. A very strong potion," she added hesitantly. Suddenly Edward turned in Alphonse's hold and he nearly lost his grip on him. He scrambled to catch him and haphazardly resituated him in his arms.

"Mr. Elric! Don't drop you brother! He's probably in enough pain as it is!" she scolded him. "You three, leave your professor be! Go mind yourselves. This doesn't concern you," she said turning to the three of them. Alphonse continue on his way as the professor shooed away her students. Edward was fidgeting now and Alphonse didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad one. At least he was conscious but he also knew that Edward needed his rest. He just didn't have the strength. He quickly turned into the hospital ward and looked around for the nurse. She was sitting in her office looking at some student whose face seemed to have broken out in boils. The instant she noticed them she dropped what she was doing and rushed over.

"Again?!” the nurse cried in exasperation. “For an immortal man, he’s already been here twice! What happened now, Mr. Mustang?” she asked. Though her voice was stiff and rigid, it was obvious she was flooded with concern. Her eyes were going over his brother in a calculative motion as if she was running through an encyclopedia of ailments and their treatments just to pluck the right ones from the vaults.

"I am Alphonse," he corrected her quickly, not wanting to waste time on introductions. "Brother's sick from the storm, but he can't fight it this time-"

"I will get some potions ready for him-"

"You can't," Minerva interrupted as she entered the ward after chasing off the nosy gryffindors. "Poppy, please just make him comfortable. I will get Severus to make him some stronger potions. Just tell me what you think he needs." As Poppy gave the Transfigurations professor a list of potions that could help Alphonse took his brother over to one of the white linen beds ready for a new patient. He knew how much Edward hated hospitals, but he hoped that he would be able to forgive him this time around for taking him to one, as well for what he did. As he set him down his brother stirred again, opening one of his eyes weakly. The golden irises portrayed pain and Alphonse knew it wasn't just physical pain from his automail that was making him feel like that. A wave of guilt crashed through him like a tidal wave and Alphonse nearly retracted from him it was just too much.

"Al?" he moaned lightly.

"Everything's alright brother, I brought you to the medical ward. It's going to be alright," Al reassured him, hoping that some of his words might calm himself down as well. Edward's eye closed but his automail arm reached up slowly, shaking all the way, and hit him lightly on the chest plate.

"Y-you idiot," Edward muttered, nothing above a whisper. His metal arm collapsed quickly under its own weight as Edward couldn't keep it moving under the pressures of the storm and Alphonse quickly moved it back to his side hoping to make him more comfortable.

"Brother, I am sorry. I-I didn't mean to-"

"I kn-know," he shivered out. "You are m-my little brother, Al. I-I know." Alphonse could almost feel a weak smile play across his armored face. How he wished he could really truly smile again, and cry again, but for the sake of his brother, seeing the result of his over excitement, he needed to wait. At least he knew he would always have such a forgiving brother, even after something so careless.


	8. The Answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While some students figure out the answer to the first law of alchemy, Edward figures out what his own life has been missing for so long.

**_Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage_ **

Chapter 8

The Answer

 

Edward stumbled out of the Hospital Ward a few days after the storm had passed. Madame Promfrey had taken a couple extra days to shove a few more potions down his throat against all of his complaints, but then again he wasn't complaining too hard. The more days he spent bored in bed, the fewer days he had to teach his stupid class. The students were practically knocking down the doors to the Hospital Ward trying to get him to come back to class. Several of them thought that they had figured out the first law of alchemy or were begging him to come back to teach them. Alphonse had taken over his job of teaching the current Organic Chemistry class and it seemed that they didn't like it. Though Alphonse was a wonderful teacher, one thing that wizards would never be good at was alchemy and organic chemistry. Lucky for him though, Poppy managed to chase off all of the students to give him peace and quiet for the rest he needed.

_"I wasn't that bad of a teacher,"_ Alphonse pouted as Edward made his way towards his chambers ignoring the crowd of students who were shuffling their way to their own dormitories for the evening. It was getting late and curfew was almost upon them. If the students didn't run, Edward knew that they wouldn't make it. Edward chuckled lightly at his brother's disappointment.

"To the best of my knowledge you seemed to be doing perfectly fine judging by the student's reactions. With organic chemistry if it's anything less than throwing one's self out the window it's a good year," Edward smirked causing a small chuckle from his brother.

_“Well, even if they didn’t learn anything, I got the book finished and copied. McGonagall was nice and helped me_ ,” Alphonse told him. It seemed that Alphonse had taken a liking to the head of Gryffindor house. Minerva was one of the few people at Hogwarts Edward tolerated. Though she was very strict, she cared. Which was more than he could say for half of the people in the entire world. He found himself smiling. He was glad that Alphonse had made a new friend, though Edward himself wouldn’t go as far as to call her that. However, his brother’s time with the professor now was limited. He had returned to the stone just the previous evening. He was very disappointed, but Edward promised his little brother that he would be back out soon enough.

Edward made his slow ascent up the grand staircase and into the corridor where his portrait laid. The torches were lit as nightfall darkened the stone halls and made an eerie sight. Edward knew that witches and wizards were into the bizarre but he wondered why none of them invested in lights. Candle light is not good on the eyes.

“Professor!” he heard young voices shout behind him. Edward turned around to see a couple Ravenclaw students racing up the corridor towards him. They must have checked his classroom to find that he wasn’t there as they seemed to hope to catch him. Edward glanced at his pocket watch, reminding himself how late it was. If it was like anything when he went to school, students should have been in their dormitories by now unless they want to seek out a detention. He knew because he would often try and adventure around the castle in the evenings, trying to read more books from the library. He was caught many times, a few of which were from Professor Ravenclaw herself. If any teacher caught these two students this late at night they would be in huge trouble.

“ _You are a teacher,”_ Roy reminded him like he was an idiot. Edward slapped his hand to his face in his stupidity as the students screeched to a halt in front of him.

“Professor!” one of them said stiffly, the determination shining through their eyes like fire. They were the students he had turned away in the Great Hall. He still felt horrible after seeing their hurt expressions when he had scolded them. However, Edward now was a little taken back as he saw how single minded they were. They came here for a reason and he doubted that they would leave without their issue being resolved even if he refused like before.

“We think we have the answer-”

“And we are going to get it right!” Edward glanced in surprise between the two Ravenclaws as they absolutely refused to budge. They wanted this more than anything. They wanted to learn alchemy even if it meant getting detention just to answer a stupid riddle.

_“We wanted to learn alchemy even if it meant dying on an island,”_ Alphonse reminded him quietly. Edward grinned. If they wanted this that bad, like they wanted it so long ago, he didn’t see any harm in letting them try.

“Alright, let me hear it,” Edward said, awaiting the Ravenclaw’s answers. They looked at each other in surprise for a second as if they were expecting to be turned away again. However, it didn't take any longer for them to dive into their answer.

“You were right, we had it wrong to begin with. We don’t know how you knew but you knew!” one of them said absolutely filled with excitement.

“But it is so simple now!” the other one exclaimed. “All is One and One is All. Everything is made up of one thing which then makes up everything-”

“The world’s materials are recycled like explained in the conservation of mass! Which means that when one thing dies, another thing is created from it.”

“And in conclusion?” Edward awaited them to finish their answer. The two Ravenclaws stuttered for once looking at each other nervously. They had it but now Edward was asking them to sum it up simply. One thing that Ravenclaws always found it hard to do, especially Edward, was to simplify something. They took a small moment and then a light bulb seemed to turn on, flicking questionably above their heads.

“We are one….” the one said hesitantly.

“And the world is All,” the other finished a little more firmly. Edward smirked as he nodded his head. The two students cheered excitedly as they got it right. They were the first. Edward was amazed that it had only been a few days, but he guessed that the students not having to fight for survival had more clear heads to think and study with than what he and Alphonse had on Yock Island.

“I will write your names down on the list tomorrow morning when I get back to the classroom. Hopefully some more of your classmates figure it out. I trust that you won’t tell them and let them have the joy of figuring it out for themselves?” Edward said raising an eyebrow at them warning them lightly of the consequences. They nodded their heads furiously just so happy that they got it right. They turned around to leave and Edward almost did the same when he snapped his fingers remembering something off of the top of his head.

“Oh, yeah! You two!” he called out pointing his finger at the two celebrating students. They turned around curiously wondering what their professor wanted. “Detention with me Saturday. Get back to your dorms before I make it the whole weekend.” The happy faces of the students dropped as they only took one glance at each other and sprinted down the hallway back towards their tower. Edward grinned evilly with the joy of having exploited his power as a professor.

“ _You are just loving this aren’t you?”_ Alphonse asked sarcastically as Edward turned back towards his chambers. He opened the portrait door and walked in, relieved to be back in his own bedroom after his extended stay in the hospital ward.

“ _I would too if I were him,”_ Roy admitted.

“For a man with a god complex this must be second nature for you,” Edward commented sharply as he started to unbutton his shirt to get ready for the night. His comment was a rough retort as Mustang pushed his buttons but it came as a second nature to him. They have been bickering for over a thousand years. He would list a million quips off the top of his head.

“ _I will have you know that it is the strongest leaders who know exactly how much power they wield.”_

“So that’s why you were only a Colonel. Now I understand,” Edward teased, making the man even redder. He draped his shirt off the back of the couch, too lazy to take it to the laundry basket where it belonged. He then proceeded towards the bathroom to commence his evening rituals of brushing his teeth and cleaning himself up. He was relieved to finally be doing it himself since Madam Promfrey didn't allow him to leave his bed for extended periods of time until she knew that his stomach was bloated with potions. She would often clean him up with a flick of her wand, much to his own humility.

Now, Edward relaxed with a sigh and a mouthful of frothing toothpaste as his mind wandered back to the answered question that was the riddle. He had his doubts about the students answering it but now he couldn't help but smile in pride as they were finally understanding alchemy. The two Ravenclaws’ answer renewed a small spark of excitement in him. Alchemy! He finally had someone new to talk about alchemy to. The questions he could ponder, the new ideas he could share. Even though the students didn't know an ounce of the science yet, he got giddy even with the idea of them being interested in the subject. He had an endless amount of topics to talk about, all of which he had nearly exhausted with everyone in the stone. His excitement for science was probably the reason why he was placed into Ravenclaw house when he attended Hogwarts.

_"Brother, you do know what this means right?"_ Alphonse asked him. _"You are going to have to teach alchemy."_

"Shit." Edward cursed remembering his half of the deal. He was too delighted to see that some wizards figured out the first law of alchemy. He was happy to be able to talk alchemy with other people even if it was only the basics. He hadn't been able to do that in the longest time. He got so caught up in it all that he forgot about what he had to do next.

"How am I supposed to teach half of the class alchemy? I don't even have a lesson plan out or anything!" Edward cried in frustration after spitting out the toothpaste in his mouth and rinsing his toothbrush under the hot water of the sink.

_"There are only two of them,"_ Hohenheim noted. _"You can hold individual lessons for them until others join."_

"Uggh, why did I get myself into this?" Edward groaned as he massaged his brow, going out into his living area. He really didn't want to teach. He was doing a half assed job already but he couldn't do that with alchemy. He wouldn't allow himself to. Chemistry was all paperwork, but alchemy…. If a student pretended to draw a wrong circle there could be serious consequences. If a student got the idea of a philosopher's stone in their head, there could be even worse. He had already tried teaching one wizard alchemy and that ended in horrible failure. What was he supposed to expect from teaching many classes?

" _Not everyone is like Flamel, Edward,”_ he heard Roy remind him. _“Besides, you didn't get yourself into this remember? It was Dumbledore's tricks that kept you here.”_ That comment soured Edward's mood even more as he collapsed down in the hard wooden chair at his desk. It was so completely different from his own chair back home, one that the headmaster of the school was keeping him from. He should send a letter to the Ministry of Magic and explain what was going on, but then the magical community would know of his presence and never leave him alone again. Not only that, but he feared that if he told the Ministry about this, he would only get tangled even farther into the war that was teetering on the edge of mass destruction. He didn't want a part in it. He never did. But there was no way of stopping Dumbledore without screwing himself over in the end.

"Such a simple stupid trick. A child could get out of it if they had a wand," Edward muttered. It was at this moment and this moment only that he regretted burying his wand in Carmarthen, Wales. He knew the exact location even though he knew the forest to be long gone and replaced by a village. With such detail he imagined himself going there, unrooting his wand from beneath Merlin's own oak and casting the counter spell over himself to free him of Dumbledore's nasty trick. That plan was farfetched in many senses. The tree that had been Merlin's own grave was long gone, and probably paved over in the street. Not only that, but retrieving his wand required him to leave the castle which was the whole reason he had imagined that journey in the first place.

“ _We need to figure out a way to get Dumbledore’s wand. His might work-_ “

“Or it might not,” Edward grumbled, cutting off his father’s plan. “Is it worth the risk trying a new wand if we don’t know it will work? The last time I used a wand that wasn’t compatible I almost leveled Diagon Alley. This building is packed full of students. It would be like a bomb waiting to happen-“

“ _Or it could be freedom_.”

“A hundred of lives is something I am not willing to put to chance, Hohenheim,” Edward hissed at him. He knew his dad was not a careless person. When given a chance like that, even though he theorizes what could happen if he took the risk, if it put too many people in danger, he wouldn’t. However, that didn’t mean Edward appreciated talking about the idea of ‘what if’.

“You can always ask someone to put the counter spell on you,” Alphonse offered. Edward laughed sharply at the thought.

“Yeah, that would work. Ask the very people who want to keep me here. ‘Please, Mr. Dumblesnot, may I have the counter spell so I can go outside, breath fresh air, and ruin your elaborately stupid plans to keep me here?’ That would work very well,” Edward mocked sourly.

“ _Not all the professors know, Ed. I was talking to Professor McGonagall, and I don’t think she knows you can’t leave-_ “

“I thought she was buddy with Dumbledore,” Edward muttered, sitting up in his chair a little straighter as if getting ready to pounce on any opportunity that flew towards him. “She’s a head of house-“

“ _Apparently, it seems only Dumbledore and that creepy Slytherin guy know.”_ Edward found himself jolting out of his chair and sprinting around his room to jam his feet into his shoes. He needed to get to McGonagall as fast as he could. If she really didn’t know, maybe she could help him. If not her, Filius, Pomona, anyone else! He could leave. He could finally leave and-

_“Brother, do you know how late it is?”_ Alphonse scolded him. Edward looked up at the large clock that stood against the wall. How Minerva ever managed to bring that back from his house, he would never know but he was grateful for it anyways. The delicate hands of the clock spread out over its surface in a way that read midnight. He didn’t even realize how late it got. It seemed like just a few minutes ago he was yelling at those Ravenclaws to get back to their dorms. He shook his head and finished jamming his foot into his shoe.

“I don’t care how late it is! We can finally get out of here!”

“ _Edward, I don’t think that anyone waken up at this hour would want to help you. Besides, you need your sleep as well. We can leave in the morning when you are rested_.” Edward bit his lip in aggravation and stared at the door to the hallway. The chance of beating Dumbledore was right in front of him all he had to do was convince one of the headmaster’s own teachers to cast the spell on him. But, if he blew it, he was still going to be trapped there. It was better taking negotiations with caution like Alphonse said. Edward let out a relenting groan as he kicked his shoes off and fell back on his bed.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Tomorrow, for sure.”

_“For sure.”_

…………..

After taking a quick bath and getting dressed in a fresh shirt and slacks, Edward braided his hair and took a slow stroll towards the Great Hall to get some breakfast. It was an early morning and very quiet. He barely saw anyone around aside from the early rising professors who were also prepping for their days classes. Edward yawned tiredly as he entered the Grand Staircase. He was on a mission to find Minerva and to get free. Even early in the morning, Edward found himself excited and energized as he pictured walking straight out of the castle and into the outside world he has been missing for weeks. He was going to stuff Albus’ smug grin straight up the man’s ass where it belonged. He pictured everything lining up for a wonderful day just to hear the worst sound in the world.

"Ah, Edward, there you are my young fellow!" Gilderoy Lockhart chimed as the man sudden popped from around the corner. The instant he saw the man’s chipper face, Edward knew he was going to have a bad day. The only acknowledgement that Edward was willing to give Gilderoy was a short second glare before he continued to walk down the hall. Unfortunately the idiot didn't take it as a sign to bugger off and started to walk alongside him.

"Edward you haven't been in my class to help assist me with the lessons for quite a few days now-"

"I was in the hospital ward," Edward noted only to have been ignored.

"-so I decided to take it upon myself to give you a little project of my own," the man hummed eagerly. Before Edward knew it he was getting a copy of Gilderoy's new book on herbology shoved into his gut. Edward looked down to the copy of the newest best selling novel and saw that it held Gilderoy's curvy signature written on the cover in gold ink. "Could you take this to Pomona as a little present? I was so grateful for her letting me teach one of her herbology classes that I couldn't let that act go unaccounted for."

"I can't-" Edward started to argue but when he looked up the only thing he saw was Gilderoy speeding away, his robes billowing in the breeze. Edward growled under his breath. After Gilderoy nearly crushed Sprout by helping her with the whomping willow, the only thing that the woman wanted to do with the man was punch him in the face. It appeared that Gilderoy was trying to smooth things over with her but as his teaching assistant, Edward was made the middle man. If the man would have only listened to him, he would have learned that giving it to a person who couldn’t leave the castle was not an efficient way to get the book to the greenhouses. Maybe after meeting up with Minerva he could stop by Pomona’s greenhouses on his way off Hogwart’s grounds.

Cursing angrily at his misfortune, Edward continued to stomp his way down to the Great Hall. He had half a mind to kick the stupid book all the way there and that was the half of his mind that he agreed with. He punted the text book down the Grand staircase, he skidded it across the entrance hall, and threw it through the open doors of the Great Hall, cursing Gilderoy's existence every step of the way. By the time he got there, the book was looking worse for wear as its binding was nearly falling off the spine and its pages were creased and torn. Though anyone would be disturbed by the book's state, he knew Pomona would throw it right to her venomous tentacula for it to tear apart.

Even with the distraction of Gilderoy, Edward was still early to breakfast. When he entered the Great Hall he found that it was nearly empty. A lot of the students were not even awake and and the professors were slowly flowing in. Edward scanned the High Table desperately in search of Minerva but unfortunately found her spot vacant of life which was odd since she was usually an early riser. He had hoped that his mission to get freed would have been as simple as meeting her in the Great Hall, but his plans never turned out the way they were supposed to. Now he was standing in a near empty hall without a direction aside from an errand that he knew he could not complete. If only Gilderoy would have listened, even though it was not like most of the faculty even knew about his detainment anyways.

With a huge aggravated sigh, he stormed his way up to the High Table to where Severus was still sitting, taking his time in finishing his soup as he read an untitled book in his hand. Edward dropped the heavily beaten novel on the table right in front of Severus, startling the man out of his wits. The dark eyes of the potions master scanned the ungodly cover of Gilderoy's defaced book and glanced up at him, a curious expression glossed across his face.

"Edward, I understand that you have probably read every book in the Hogwart's Library, and have driven Pince mad because of it, but I would have never imagined the Eastern Sage to stoop so low as to pick up one of Gilderoy's books to read," the man commented as he turned his attention back to the pages of his own book.

"I need to take this to Pomona. Gilderoy wants to give it as a present of gratitude and if I don't get it to her he'll be talking my ear off all night-"

"It should stop within a few days then the crazy man will find something else to jabber on about," Severus told him as if nothing bored him more.

"I am stuck in this bloody castle, please don't tack on torture as well," Edward huffed tiredly. “Where is Minerva? I need to talk with her. It is important.”

“Minerva? Why are you so eager for a conversation with her?” Severus asked, his interest finally spiked for something. Edward glared at him angrily. Out of all the people he could tell, that man was not one of them. He had helped Dumbledore trap him in the castle. If he told him why he wanted to talk to Minerva, he might as well be sealing himself in the brick of the castle.

“None of your fucking business,” he retorted sharply. “Where is she? She is usually here by now.”

“She’s gone into town for the day. Running some errands.” It took all of Edward’s strength not to curse out loud, even then he had failed Severus withdraw as he let obscenities fly out of his mouth. He had waited the evening to meet with McGonagall and she was gone? She was his one ticket out of Hogwarts and she wasn’t even there anymore! He cursed till the point that his brother began to scold him.

_“Brother! Not in front of the students!”_ he warned him as the first couple of blurry eyed Hufflepuffs filed into the Great Hall.

“Yeah? Well now we are stuck here for even longer because I didn’t go when I could! All I want to do is go outside! What’s so wrong about that?” Edward whined in Amestrian as he buried his face in his hands. Severus, seeing his frustration, raised his eyebrow at him. His glower seemed to harden. He still didn’t understand what Edward was talking about but he seemed to catch onto what he wanted.

“Elric, if this is has anything to do against the headmaster I need to tell you that it would never work,” he grumbled to dampen any more of Edward’s spirits that were left. “However, it isn’t like your efforts have really been that strong anyways.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Edward barked. He felt the anger grow in him and his face flushed red.

“You are the Eastern Sage. You have the philosopher’s stone, yet your attempts are summed up as you trying your best to kick down the spell’s barrier. For an ancient wizard I expected a bit more,” he said.

“I am not a wizard,” Edward seethed. “And my reasonings for not using it are perfectly justified. I will not use it for my own gain. Too many lives have already been lost because of it.” Severus’ eyes widened a fraction of an inch but the man didn’t say anything more about it. The potion’s master did not understand what the stone was or what it did and he was the last person Edward wanted to mention anything about it to. Seeing as he was not going to say anything else, Edward grabbed Gilderoy’s stupid book off of the table and turned to leave. “I will get out of here eventually, Severus, and then you will realize yours and Albus’ mistake.”

Edward stormed towards the doors of the Great Hall. This morning really was starting to piss him off. He would just have to show Severus up and get out of there as soon as he could so he could rub his success in the man’s greasy face. However, Minerva was out and unless he could find someone else willing to cast the counterspell on him he was doomed to wait. He had considered a few of the other faculty members who obviously did not know, but he had never actually talked to them before. He was not on good terms with most of them and some of the staff actually were afraid of him. Minerva was the only person there that he had actually sat down and enjoyed talking to. He doubted many of the other professors would help or even care about his entrapment.

“ _Brother, you can’t assume that_ ,” Alphonse sighed as Edward walked towards the doors of the Entrance Hall to wait for the other faculty to flow in for breakfast. He crossed his arms and leaned his back against the invisible barrier in front of the door to rest.

“Sometimes it is better to live in reality than to build false hope of something better,” Edward muttered back to his brother, obviously disappointing him but he continued with a smirk, “I would prefer to be surprised every now and then.”  

Edward looked over his shoulder and took a huge breath of the damp morning air. He could see the dew drops on the grassy lawn and how they shimmered in the sun. Even at the large front doors to the castle, he could not see the colors of the painted sunrise because they faced west but the view this door to the outside provided was still better than the one the courtyard did. The four stone walls that surrounded the small green was the only thing he could see whenever he went outside. It was just another reminder of his imprisonment. However, sometimes, in the evenings, Edward would wander down to the Entrance Hall and watch the sunset fall over the hills of Scotland. Though he could not go outside, Edward felt better about not missing something as naturally beautiful as that.

Just as Edward felt himself start to relax, someone who was rounding the castle on the outside almost ran into him as they entered the Entrance Hall.

“Oof!” the short and stubby figure of Pomona Sprout exclaimed as she ran into him. Her entire face was splotched with dirt and soil and Edward had to guess that if her hair was not so wildly tucked up into her witching hat that it would have been covered as well. Her large welcoming eyes shot up to his face to see who she ran into. The instant they caught sight of him a warm smile spread on her face and she opened her arms to him. Edward was not prepared.

“Edward!” Pomona Sprout exclaimed with her chipper voice as she pulled him into a hug. Edward felt all of his muscles tense up as she did so, as his body seemed to have forgotten what a hug was. “It is so good to see you back up and walking! You nearly drained all of my greenhouses and Severus’ stores for those pepper-up potions. I was just outside tending to the mandrakes. It is a good thing we got some fresh seedlings in this semester for my second-year class.”

“Oh… uh… sorry,” Edward replied hesitantly as she released him from her firm hug. He didn’t know how to respond. It seemed that she was concerned for his wellbeing the last few days he was out. He had barely talked to her over the weeks that he was there aside from when Gilderoy had almost crushed her with the whomping willow. Edward did not know where her worry had come from. He was very overwhelmed by the sudden concern that he took a step back from the woman. He wasn’t so used to having so much attention on him, especially in social situations.

“It has been a while since I saw you. Without your brother giving us updates, I would have thought you up and left the castle for good!” Pomona chuckled. Edward felt his face flush red as his jaw dropped in disbelief.

“Alphonse?” he hissed towards his brother. He could almost feel the smug smile on Alphonse’s face.

“ _They were nice. You should talk to them more,”_ was all his brother did to defend himself.

“I… I didn’t think…anyone would worry about me…” Edward tried to stumble, even more baffled than before. Seeing how flustered he was, Pomona grew a worried expression on her face.

“What? I know I have barely shared many words with you, what being so secluded in the castle all of the time and I down at the greenhouses, but that doesn’t mean I won’t worry for another professor here at Hogwarts. Minerva was dreadfully concerned after finding you in your rooms a few days ago. She would bug me over tea about how the new herbs were growing and if we had enough to make more potions. I said I did, but you would be better off having drank a cup of herbal tea once a day. Keep you nice and healthy so this type of thing doesn’t happen,” the herbologist started to blabber on and on. It seemed that she had loved to talk but Edward… did not mind. Her cheery conversation soothed his spouting anxiety, even though he was still left on guard. It was so strange hearing concerns from the other faculty. It almost felt unnatural. No one cared about what happens to him. It was unheard of except maybe in Professor McGonagal with whom he had only had limited conversation with. Edward found himself taking another step back trying to suppress his urge to run away from the odd feeling.

“ _What’s so odd about it?”_ he heard Mustang ask him. Whenever the man asked him anything it always sounded like he was being scolded. “ _These people seem to care for you. There is nothing unnatural about it_.”

“I.. I feel like it is a trick,” Edward whispered to Mustang in Amestrian. Pomona was carrying on a long-winded conversation on a healthy diet and preventive medicine. She seemed genuine in her fairly one-sided talk but for some reason Edward was skeptical. “It has to be a trick. No one on this side of the gate…” he faltered. He remembered their previous conversation in the Headmaster’s Office about Minerva taking an unwarranted trip to his house. It was out of her own generosity to make that journey for him. He was shocked beyond belief to find out about it. If she could make that huge trip just to recover some old shirts, was it so hard to believe that other professors might be able to show at least minimal amount of concern for his health?

 Edward covered his mouth for a second as he tried to hold onto his wits. He felt himself get emotional and he especially did not want that at that moment.

“Oh dear, are you okay?” Pomona asked him as he caught him standing very quiet and emotionally compromised. Edward tried to choke down the lump in his throat to answer her.

“Th-thanks,” he croaked as he attempted to regain himself. He cleared his throat and put on something he assumed was a smile. He felt like he hadn’t done it in ages so it was difficult to tell. “I-I am fine, wonderful actually. Thank you.” Seeing him smile had put one on Pomona’s own face and she grinned happily back at him and gave him a light pat on the arm.

“Oh! What do you have there?” she asked as she caught sight of the book he was carrying. Edward looked down at it and unfortunately had to catch sight of the author’s horrendous picture on the back. He closed his eyes and groaned as he handed it off to her.

“As Lockharts ‘ _geongra_ ’ he wanted me to give this to you as an apology,” Edward muttered as she took the book.

“Geongra?” she asked curiously as she carefully removed her wand from her robes. Edward slapped himself in the face as he realized he had accidentally said it in old English. Swapping conversation back and forth between the people in the stone and in the real world was really messing up his language division.

“Assistant. Sorry, old English,” he told her which seemed to peak her curiosity as she casually casted the conflagration spell on the book she was so honorably gifted without second thought. Edward smirked as he watched all of the narcissistic pages turn to ash and fall to the floor. Even the amazing Lockhart could not fight the wrath of the Herbology teacher.

“I have no idea what Albus was thinking making you his assistant. Not even the Eastern Sage could help save that man’s class from ruin,” she sighed. “Well, why don’t we go get some breakfast. You look mighty pale and I bet some pumpkin juice will pick you right up!” she hummed as she took him by the elbow and began to waddle her way towards the Great Hall. Edward found himself pulling back as he really did not want to go back in there and face Severus again. Not until he was able to show something for it. Seeming to sense his hesitation she stopped.

“Did you already eat breakfast?” she asked him. He didn’t know what else to do aside nod his head. She looked down heartened at the answer. “I guess we could always talk over tea then if you have other things to do. You should come down to the greenhouses this afternoon for a nice cup of tea. I was going to invite Rubeus over as well. I think it would be nice to catch up-“

“I can’t,” Edward stopped her quickly. She looked hurt at the sudden decline in her offer but did not argue with him. He felt awful but there wasn’t anything he could do. She worked and nearly lived her entire year in the greenhouses outside while he was stuck inside. Even if he wanted to talk some more he could not. Not without Minerva casting the counter spell on him.

“ _You can ask her,”_ Alphonse suggested instead of approving Edward’s idea to wait and sulk for Minerva to come back. It was worth a shot. Unless Severus or Albus had gotten to most of the staff already and told them not to help him, anyone might be able to cast the counter spell on him.

“Ah, do you mind if I ask you something first?” Edward asked her, picking up the fallen conversation from where it was dropped so suddenly.

“Of course!” she chirped, her spirits lifting.

“I wanted to ask for Minerva to do this but do you think you might help me instead?” Edward asked her, following his brother’s suggestion. The woman raised her eyebrow curiously. It was obvious she was curious as to the favor but she was not a cold hearted woman and nodded her head in acceptance. “Would you be able to cast the counter detainment spell on me?” Pomona looked taken back as if she was not expecting that at all. It wasn’t often that professors ask you to shoot a spell at them.

“Did you charm yourself on accident?” she asked him.

“N-no. Someone else did it. It’s a simple spell but the issue is that I don’t have a wand,” Edward explained to her. “I had given up magic about 700 years ago and though alchemy is great, it can’t get me out of a little detainment charm.”

“Seven hundred years without magic? Well even if you did have a wand I would believe you would be mighty rusty at it!” Pomona chuckled nervously as even she seemed to have forgotten exactly how old he really was. He looked to be only about 18 years old which definitel gave an illusion of age. He often reminded Gilderoy of his age but he did not seem to care aside from outward appearances and continued to treat him like a teenaged student.

“Who detained you here, Mr. Elric? Was it a student?” she finally asked after the short shock dispersed. Edward opened his mouth to answer her truthfully. It would have been wonderful to let the staff of Hogwarts know just how horrible their Headmaster was. However, before he could even start to say the bastard’s name, heavy hands landed on his shoulder and silenced him.

“Mr. Elric, I need to have a word with Professor Sprout here. Do you mind giving us a few moments?” the chipper voice of Albus Dumbledore twittered behind him. Edward growled and glared at the man, ripping his shoulders out of his grasp.

“No, you fucking asshole! I am talking to her and you better wait your goddamned turn or else I’ll-“

“All I need is a few moments. I know you are a busy man and you must have a lot of paperwork built up over the few days you were out. It might be smart to catch up on that,” the man suggested. Pomona looked rather ruffled from Edward cursing out the headmaster but did not ask questions. She seemed to respect the Headmaster which was an issue as Edward was trying to convince her to go against his orders. With the look in Albus’ clever eyes, it was obvious he had just pulled the first errand that he thought of in order to interrupt Edward’s pursuit of freedom. The man was now preparing to warn Pomona to not cast the counterspell on him. Edward doubted he would tell her the truth on the reasoning however. Edward fumed as he glared at Dumbledore with all of his might. He did not want to be silenced.

“Albus,” he breathed heavily, “I am fucking warning you.”

“We all know what you can do, Master Elric,” the man hummed dangerously. “However, If you wanted to do anything, you probably would have done it by now.” After finishing that curt statement, the elderly man took the herbology professor gently by the arm and led her away for a light conversation about the Eastern Sage’s future at Hogwarts. Edward was left standing there, biting his lip with no words left in him. He did not know how to retort to the headmaster’s statement probably because it was so brutally true. If he could have, he would have escaped by now. If he wanted to destroy the castle, he would have. He had spent a few weeks in the castle already. Why was he still stuck there?

_“Fullmetal, it is because you are good human being.”_ Roy’s voice was strong and made the statement feel almost reassuring.

“How so?” he muttered half mindedly, still staring towards where the headmaster had disappeared with the herbology professor to seal his fate with the rest of the staff.

_“Because destroying the castle would be putting all of the students inside of it in danger. You would not do that.”_ Edward closed his eyes and sighed tiredly. No, he couldn’t do that. The students didn’t know about his feud with their headmaster. Hell, even if it came down to it as much as Edward threatened to kill the man, he wouldn’t hurt Albus given the chance. He had killed enough people in his life, specifically in the Crusades he was forced to fight in. One life was too many and he was already passed that by miles. If he decided to level Hogwarts for the sake of freedom, all of the students, staff, and creatures better get out before he did so and that would never happen. Albus knew that.

Edward felt his feet collapse out from underneath him as he sat down on the steps of the Entrance Hall. As he sat there he could hear the beads in the hourglasses fall as students and faculty mulled about the year as normal, earning points and learning classes. They walked around care free, while the fate of Edward’s entire country rested on his shoulders for the past thousand years. If Edward could really sit back and enjoy normal life like all of the students, maybe he would. But he had lived too long and seen too many things he no longer belonged in this life.

_“What are you going to do?”_ Hohenheim asked him. His father was the last person he wanted to talk to, but he was also the only man who understood anything of what he was going through. But even he didn’t live as long as he. Edward shook his head tiredly as he stared at the swarm of students now filing down from the Grand staircase towards the Great Hall. Edward slowly stood up and began to walk off towards the staircase, not wanting to get caught amongst the hundreds of happy students who were blissfully unaware of their very short lives.

“I don’t know anymore,” he sighed tiredly. “I really don’t know.”

…..

Edward sat quietly in his office going over the pages and pages of homework that the students had turned in during his time in the hospital ward. There were piles of papers stacked up on his desk from the various assignments that his brother assigned. After avoiding teaching for so long he forgot that eventually he would have to actually do some work. However, he now felt like he was forced into the role of professor even though he did not fit there. He had not held a stationary life in forever on the run after Flamel. Staying put in the castle for an entire year doing paperwork was not normal for him. It was putting a round peg into a square hole and Dumbledore was the one forcing it through.

Edward sighed tiredly as he mindlessly flipped through the homework. He had been reading the same line over and over again as his mind began to wander on other things, mainly going outside. Not wanting to think about it, he picked up another of the many stacks of paper and dragged it closer to him thinking that maybe a different assignment might help him focus more. Taking up the fountain pen he had mail ordered with a few sickles from his paycheck, Edward started to grade the assignments. They were very basic but even with Alphonse’s wonderful teaching methods, most of the answers were wrong.

As the tedious work continued, Edward’s mind began to wander again back to the conversation he had with Pomona in the Entrance Hall. She had looked utterly shocked when she found out he was at odds with Dumbledore. Though she had expressed her care for him, he wondered if it would still be the same after she had found out exactly what was going on with him and the headmaster. He wondered if Minerva would still be the same towards him as well when she found out or if the entire faculty would become estranged as they picked Albus’ side. He had just began to feel more comfortable there as well and he had to ruin even that.

“ _Brother, it will be alright-“_

“I hate to say it,” Edward muttered as he set down his pen and folded his arms over his desk, “but Helena was right. People do make things a little better.”

“ _Except Dumbledore that is_ ,” Alphonse reminded him and Edward found himself smiling weakly at his brother’s light hearted comment.

“Yeah, except Dumbledore.” There was a swarm of sympathy building up inside of him as the people in the stone sent out their reassurances. The scale of emotion almost set Edward to tears before he had calmed them all down. He had not known what he had until it was torn out from underneath him. Now he was trapped here permanently in the castle watching the rest of the world going about their lives and enjoying them in the presence of other people while he was stuck in eternity alone, only with his bodiless friends to talk to. How much he yearned to get home and put them back in their proper bodies. He wanted to give them their lives back. He wanted to hug his brother and embrace his friends, but he had gone a thousand years without finding a way back. He doubted one year at Hogwarts would do any different.

There was a sudden knock on his classroom door and Edward looked at his watch to find that it was already nearing dinner time. He had worked through lunch and he held no afternoon classes that day to disrupt his work. He sighed as he pocketed the watch and beckoned the unknown person through his door. He had expected it to be Severus or even Lockhart, but the last person he expected there was Pomona herself. She looked small in the doorframe as she stood across the room obviously not wanting to disturb him.

“Edward, I was wanting to know if you still wanted to have tea this evening?” she asked him, catching him off guard. Edward was sure that the offer was no longer on the table since his outburst at Dumbledore. Maybe this was her own way of taunting him as he was trapped there and she knew it. He didn’t think that she would do that.

“I can’t,” he replied simply, not wanting to elaborate on the reason.

“Yes, Dumbledore told us about… well you can’t go outside. So we decided to bring it up here if that is alright,” she said nervously. Edward’s eyes widened as he saw Minerva had returned from her trip and was holding a rather nice tray of tea. Behind her was Filius holding a few plates of biscuits. It seemed even he liked a nice afternoon tea. Edward found himself standing up from his chair in shock.

“Uh.. yes, yes… um… come in… um chairs,” he fumbled, very baffled about the event. He ran about the room and cleared off one of the desks as the witches and wizards set down their trays of goods. As Edward picked up a few of the desk chairs so that everyone could sit down he felt his arms shaking as his anxiety went through the roof. He didn’t know what was going on with himself. He brought the chairs over to the table and the professors gratefully took them.

“Uh.. Umm… here,” he said as he set them down. His mind furiously ran through everything that he would need for tea but he was drawing a blank. Music? His records were back in his chambers. Food? He didn’t have any of that! He had never hosted anything before in his life. He didn’t know what to do.

“Edward, are you alright?” Filius asked him genuinely from the table. Edward bit his metal finger as he tried to come up with an appropriate answer. Why was he drawing a blank?

“ _Calm down Edward. It is just tea,”_ he heard Winry scold him light heartedly. He heard the smile in her voice and it seemed to calm him even a fraction of the way. He took in a huge breath and weakly smiled back at the charm’s professor even as his heart was beating through his chest.

“Uh… yes, yes… I am just… well I never… no ones done this… before,” he finished hesitantly. The three professor’s eyes widened and they glanced at each other for a brief moment before turning back to him.

“No one?” Pomona asked as if someone coming over for tea was so natural of a thing. In reality it was. Edward shook his head, unable to find the words he wanted to say.

“I understand you are a bit nervous socializing, Edward, but it is perfectly fine,” Minerva explained as she seemed to remember their talk earlier in the semester in her classroom. He guessed that Alphonse probably talked to her as well while he was in the hospital ward.

“ _Yes,”_ his brother admitted guiltily. Edward found himself taking one of the chairs at the crowded desk where a tea cup was set up and poured. The wafting steam from the tea smelled of sweet herbs and he knew that it was Pomona’s own brew that she had been talking relentlessly about earlier. He picked up the delicate porcelain cup gently but still found his hand to be shaking horribly so he put it back down with a clatter.

“I thought,” Edward muttered, wanting to break the awkward silence he had created, “I thought that Dumbledore had explained to you all why we were fighting.”

“Oh yes, he did,” Pomona answered. “He said that you were rather reluctant to stay in the castle but the detainment charm was on the portion of the philosopher’s stone that was here. He is going to give it to you at the end of the year but until then…” Pomona finished hesitantly. Edward nodded his head knowing that it was true even though the malicious intent of Dumbledore was still left out.

“Would you be able to help me leave then?” Edward asked hopefully but unfortunately his spirit was crushed as they all shook their heads.

“We are sorry, Edward, but we trust Dumbledore very much and as much as I would love to help you if Albus suggests not to, I trust his oppinion,” Filius answered.

“I understand,” he mumbled in reply. He guessed that he really was stuck there for the rest of the year. A warm hand rested on his shoulder and he looked over to see Minerva sitting there next to him with an apologetic smile on her face.  

 “I know we have not been very open to you so far this year, but we wanted to tell you that if you needed anything, you could ask us. You have been by yourself for so long I think it is time that you had some company,” Minerva explained. Edward looked at her and then to the two other professors who seemed to all have a genuine compassion shimmering in their faces. They were very much offering their friendship even though they could not offer his freedom. Edward felt the ice that had surrounded his heart for so long shatter in a million pieces as the loneliness he had felt for the last several hundred years melted away. He bit his lip not wanting the tears to come but even then there was no holding them back. Here he was, Paracelsus the great Eastern Sage, crying in font of some Hogwarts professors as he was shown some decent human kindness. Through his sobbing he muttered words of gratitude which he hoped came out comprehensible or else he probably would have just looked like an utter fool. He had not had a friend outside of the stone since Sir Nicholas 700 years ago. He had imagined the world to be cold and cruel since then. Now, as the professors were chuckling a little bit at his sudden burst of emotion and trying their best to make him feel better, he realized it was not the world, it was just him.

_“This year might not be so bad for him after all,”_ Edward heard Alphonse whisper to Roy inside the stone amongst the chaos.

_“It might be alright.”_


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward runs into his past, in the future.

_**Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage** _

Chapter Nine

 

Edward had spent much of the evening with the other professors. After he managed to calm down they talked about a great many things such as classes, the founders, and even a bit about Alphonse who they all have managed to meet at one time or another. As they talked about how he was teaching his classes, most of them adverse to his teaching methods, he was happy to tell them that he was going to start alchemy lessons very soon as the students were finally solving the riddle they needed. It seemed to make all the professors excited that he was finally diving into his classes. He wanted to correct them that it was actually the students who had gotten the first law correct and therefore were diving into their classes, but it did not matter. He would be teaching alchemy. As much as he hated the fact that he was being forced to do it by the headmaster, Edward found himself a bit excited to become really engaged in alchemy again even if it was just the basics.

Now, sitting in his organic chemistry class he had handed the newly copied textbook to the students who had passed and was currently talking to them about their private lessons. He was making a schedule for the two Ravenclaws right when a few other students crowded around his desk. He looked up to see prophecy child and his two friends with him.

"What?" he asked though a little too stiffly as the three of them jumped back from his desk.

"Professor, we don't want to learn chemistry. We want to learn alchemy," Weasley stated simply. The kid was holding his unfinished organic homework and Edward understood his frustration. Out of all of his students, Weasley was the second worse at organic chemistry only above Draco Malfoy. He assumed that the only reason why he got at least one right on his last assignment was because Granger was helping him.

"If you want to learn alchemy you are going to have to figure out -"

"The first law," Granger finished his sentence. Edward closed his mouth and looked at the lot of them in surprise. Their confident smirks told him that they were ready to present him with their answer. "We know what it is, Professor."

Edward motioned to the two Ravenclaws to stay where they were and waved the few Gryffindors out of the classroom into the hallway to listen to their answer. It took a bit of round about explaining for them to get to the point but in the end all of them said it. The flow of life. Even Weasley got it. Edward had let the students run free after they gave them their free schedules so that he could write up a lesson plan. He only hoped that his classes would grow.

“Prophecy kid isn’t half bad,” he muttered to himself as he continued to sketch lesson plans in his notebook as he took a walk down the corridor after his class had let out. He had known Harry to be an average student, only a little better than Weasley academically though that might account for an intact wand. He had not expected the kid to get the first law so early in the semester. Though the kid worked together with his two friends, it was obvious to him that Granger, specifically, didn’t just give him the answer. He understood it a bit too well in his explanation for that. Edward couldn’t help but feel a little proud for the three Gryffindors.

_“Here we thought you hated him,”_ Roy retorted light heartedly. Edward rolled his eyes.

“I don’t hate the nosy brat. He is just annoying when he decides to be. And him being caught up in all of that prophecy divinations bullshit is not helping his paranoia out,” he replied as he looked down at his lesson notebook and made another marking on it. “Maybe the three of them should have been Ravenclaws instead.”

_“If that red head kid was a Ravenclaw you would kill him,”_ Roy said, noting how the kid was the last person to get excited about a class of any sort. Edward laughed as he knew that to be true. Maybe Weasley wouldn’t have done so well in Ravenclaw.

Edward walked around the castle by himself taking suggestions for lessons from the alchemists inside of the stone. The hallways were cleared of students during the class period so he was free to walk down it minding his own business. Unfortunately, with his nose in his book, he managed to run straight into the only person standing in the hallway. As he collided straight on, his notebook and pen were smashed to his chest, ink managing to spill all over his white shirt. Edward let out a few curses as his notebook dropped to the floor and he looked down at his messed-up shirt in dismay.

“Oh, Master Elric, what a wonderful coincidence,” he heard the false cheery voice of Dumbledore say. Edward glared up at the man, his cheeks puffed in rage.

“I don’t ever want to talk to you again unless it is to curse you with an unforgivable curse,” he hissed, his voice full of fire. Edward clapped his hands and touched his shirt to rid it of the ink that had stained it. Within seconds after the alchemic light had died down, his shirt was clean. Albus was watching him amused.

“I am glad to hear you teaching my students alchemy already. I heard that Harry and his friends just got into your class,” he said. Edward’s eyes widened as he looked back up at the headmaster. How the hell did he know that? He had just had class with the three Gryffindors. There was no possible way-

“I engage and inquire about the students performance,” Albus noted as he read his mind. “I simply asked young Harry how his class was going.”

“You care too much about this kid. You trap me here to be his ‘body guard’ for no apparent reason. Why go through all this trouble just to keep me here when you could get some other person with an actual wand to fill my place. Most of the faculty don’t agree with this you know,” Edward growled at him as he bent down and picked up the notebook he had dropped.

“Master Elric, it was not solely for Potter’s sake that you are here. Yes some might say I am killing two birds with one stone, but it is mostly for your own sake that I kept you here,” Albus told him.

“For my own sake? You are trapping me here against my will! I can’t even go outside let alone back to my house! I am a prisoner in disguise as a teacher!” Edward screeched at the man. “How the hell is this for my betterment?”

“You are looking too much at the present, and I feel you look even more at the past than what is healthy,” Albus told him. “The future might be dangerous, but I foresee you coming out on top of it all.” Edward scoffed at his words as he sounded too much like a fortune cookie for his likings.

“Yeah well, the bright future tends to disappoint me. It is better to be stuck in the present than keep my head in the clouds like you,” Edward muttered as he pushed past the headmaster roughly. He opened his notebook to continue where he left off when he heard the man call out to him again.

“Master Elric, I wanted to ask you to go to the library and take a few books to the Divinations professor Trelawney. She is working on a project and my weak bones cannot make it up those ladders as well as I used to.”

“Well you should have thought about that before becoming so damn old,” Edward sniped. He sent a glare at the headmaster who only gave him a small smile and a pleading look. Edward wanted to punch his face in and break his already crooked nose, but unfortunately his better side gave in on him. He knew he would come to regret doing any favors for the bastard. He growled and snapped his notes shut  before turning around in the hallway and walking back where he came.

“Fucking lazy ass bastard,” he huffed as he passed the man.

“Thankyou Master Elric, I very much appreciate it,” Dumbledore hummed sweetly. Edward really wanted to kill him.

Edward strolled through the castle until he reached the library. He wasn't in a rush now and knowing that he would have to climb an inconceivable number of stairs to get to his final destination, he would rather conserve his energy. Not only would he have to save his energy for the hike up the stairs, but he also knew that the fight with Madam Pince was going to be one hell of a battle. The librarian had a grudge against his use of the library and seemed to try and deter him from ever going there again. Though he had read every book in the castle already over his years and years of research, he still seemed to make a mess of the shelves. Alphonse had encouraged him to reread some of the old texts to get some inspiration. He imagined that something in those books would spark the answer on how to get home and they would be back in Amestris before the year was even over. Edward on the other hand, doubted it. He only thought rereading them would only give Pince another chance to clock him with an outrageously heavy copy of the new English dictionary.

"There is a strict rule that you aren't allowed in here," Edward heard the librarian greet him coldly. He rolled his eyes as he walked over to the desk and leaned casually against it, not taking offense to the woman's bout. After all, he was not allowed to go many places now that Albus had locked him in there.

"Hello Irma, still trying to get Dumblefart to agree to ban me from the library?" Edward asked tiredly and she scoffed at him, crossing her arms over her chest in an abrupt manner.

"What are you looking for this time? Maybe if you tell me I could go get them off the shelves to prevent you from tearing them apart."

"I read these books all before and still don't know what I want," Edward sighed. "I am not researching today. I just need to pick up a book for Professor Trelawney."

"The Art of Divinations and Painting the Future, very well," the woman hummed as she walked around her large circular desk to where she kept the on-hold books. There were very few books on hold for students as most books put on reserve were by teachers. Many of the professors here were attempting their own magical research and needed reference. Others were reserved by teachers so that they could use it in one of their classes. Either way, it wasn't that hard to know what book each teacher wanted.

Irma grabbed a rather large book from underneath the desk, looked at it once, then brought it over to the counter where Edward was waiting. She picked up her quill then made a few notes in her log about its leaving the library.

"Seeing the future might be easy, but I think Sybill has found her capability in art a little harder to handle," Irma hummed as she slipped a card in the front cover of the book and snapped it shut. She handed it to him and Edward grabbed it, bracing himself underneath its weight.

"It took me a few hundred years to paint well. Originally picked it up as a suggestion by my friend Armstrong as a form of stress relief. Proved more aggravating than calming especially with all of the masters I had to be under to even learn how to hold a paintbrush. If Trelawney's just learning how to paint it might take her ages to make the Mona Lisa. At least it took me a few hundred years to even make that little piece," Edward chuckled which strangely made the aggravated glare Irma wore since he walked in the library disappear lightly.

"Leonardo Da Vinci made the Mona Lisa," she noted like he didn't know that himself.

"Leonardo _was_ the Mona Lisa. He made it my first portrait piece under his mentorship when I was trying to find fucking Flamel in Florence. His prideful god complex got so annoying that I drew him as a woman just to piss him off. Turned out to be amazing and of course the bastard took credit for it," Edward huffed but shrugged lightly as he said, "But that was a long time ago. It isn’t like I can change a history book without looking like a looney." When Edward first started to learn how to paint as Armstrong's attempt to get him to relax and pick up a hobby that wasn't researching, he was very bad at it. Like, really bad. Colors bended to brown and his people looked more like flat rectangles than actual human beings. He had to believe that his first attempts at art inspired expressionism. However, over the many years he learned how to paint and eventually became very good at it. He found himself respecting the art of painting and did it on occasion. Now that he thought of it, he would still do it if he had the supplies.

“ _Since you are going to be here in the castle, why not send an owl to get some paints? Make a new portrait for your chamber door,”_ Roy suggested. Edward scratched his chin thoughtfully. He did have a lot of money accumulated over the years and now was getting paid even more from teaching at Hogwarts against his will. The only issue was that he could not leave the castle to get an owl and did not own one himself. The only messages he had sent out was after a message was delivered to him first. Just as he was wondering where his last order was after requesting it a while back, he looked over to see Irma having a crisis of her own.

Though it was an innocent retelling of a personal story, the librarian seemed very taken back by it. She was a person who prided herself in history and Edward had told her that nearly all of the history books were wrong. He closed his mouth as he realized that something like that, though just a normal memory to him, might have been incomprehensible to someone who didn't live as long a life or understand that the history books only told the story that someone wanted them to say. As the librarian was now battling with a history crisis, Edward quickly said bye and whisked himself out of the library with the heavy book in tow. He would probably have to explain himself to her later, but as for that moment, he would rather not get caught in a longer conversation with the librarian.

Edward lugged the huge tomb up the stairs towards the north tower. The classroom was on the seventh floor all the way up and Edward cursed the wizards for not inventing some sort of lift. The muggles had wonderful technology to make stairs easier. Could the headmaster of Hogwarts not understand that a medieval castle with seven flights of winding stone steps be hurting one's health? At least their motivation to go anywhere.

Edward reached the top floor completely out of breath with Izumi Curtis scolding his ears off on how out of shape he has gotten. He rarely heard a word from the woman, but when he did it was a disaster. Looking around the corridor, he saw a silvery ladder hanging from the ceiling going up through a trapdoor. He walked over to it and gave a light tug on it hoping that it wouldn't fall under his weight with the book. Grappling with the ladder, he wondered how any of the students got up there for class. They sure carried more weight in their backpacks with all of the textbooks and scrolls that they needed to lug around. Maybe the fact that it was a pain in the neck to get up there, considering if you didn't break your neck first, that Trelawney picked that classroom to be hers to protect her 'mind's eye'.

With a huff, Edward tossed the huge book through the doorway and heard the thwump as it hit the wooden floor as he finished his ascent. He groaned as he tumbled through the latchway and found his footing on the dusty and dark entrance way of the classroom. He dusted his clothes off and picked up the book where it was carelessly thrown before making his way into the main body of the classroom where he assumed the professor would be. He hoped to find her and relieve himself of the books burden so the climb down the ladder wouldn't literally kill him.

_"Brother, you can't die,"_ Alphonse reminded him making Edward sigh.

"Maybe the fall from the tower might do the impossible."

The classroom was much brighter than the entranceway as natural sunlight snuck in through the stained glass windows and passed the thick tapestry curtains that covered them. Red and blue speckled lights flickered on the floor and cloth covered tea tables like gemstones. Edward breathed in the smell of incense and heard a tea kettle whistling over the small fireplace. Aside from obvious evidence of living, the room seemed to be abandoned.

"Hello? Professor?" he called out as he continued his journey through the room. He saw shelves of tea cups and kettles stacked up high alongside crystal orbs and star books. They were the tools of soothesayers but amongst them were piles and piles of paints and canvas, each covered in an odd mash of colors and blobs. Edward looked at a few of them and couldn't even begin to guess what they were supposed to be. He looked around and saw an easle propped up near the window, a can of paint lying haphazardly on its side, dripping a ghastly black mess to the floor. Edward sighed as he dropped the book on a nearby chair and walked over to pick up the mess. At least he wouldn't let some good paint go to waste. He grabbed the can and righted it, setting it down on the front of the easle. However, as he looked up from what he was doing he felt his blood run out of him as he came face to face with the professor's most recent creation.

Where all of the other paintings were undecipherable, this one was a plain as day. Dark oils looped and swirled around covering the entire canvas in the inky color. Only two circles laid untouched by the horrible night and showed a picture of a blood coated ruby crested sword looping through the circles. Someone might think it was an odd unfinished painting but the only thing that Edward saw was himself looking through the eyes of the iron mask.

He stumbled backwards, tripping over the small tray where all of the oils and pigments resided, tipping it to the floor. The colors splashed in a gory rainbow mess. Though the distracting colors began to soak into his robes Edward found himself unable to move as his eyes were locked on the horrifying painting. He felt the cool metal seep onto his skin as the paint soaked him through and the mask seemed to lock into place. He scrambled up off the ground, his clothes covered in the different dyes and started to sprint towards the entranceway. His heart beated in his chest, a stone cold rock about to shatter in a million pieces. He made it a couple steps before a bony hand came out of nowhere and latched itself around his wrist, bringing him to a halt. He wanted to plow the person in front of him over and continue his escape but he froze as he saw two large bug eyes staring at him with a small calm smile and a large amount of worry.

"Hello, Paracelsus, I knew you were coming and still had myself preoccupied in another crystal message," the woman's whimsical voice said, its smooth forte calming his nerves from wanting to jump out of the window. Her eyes, which looked like they were put underneath magnified glasses, were wide as they looked over his state. They glanced between him and her paints before acknowledging the link between them.

"Why were you leaving in such a rush, my dear? You don’t look so well," she asked him. "They're only paints-"

"I-I… it's nothing really. I just remembered that I have to-"

"Well before you go, why don't we get you cleaned up? Hmm? Paint isn't good to get on clothes, though it is nice on canvas! I have been trying to do future painting but alas, haven't got the knack for it. Though I will hear about your story and Da Vinci from Irma Pince later today. Maybe you might be able to make me a picture, yes?"

“I-I think you have future painting down pretty well,” Edward wheezed as the woman pulled his petrified body back into the classroom to get cleaned up. He could not take his eyes off of the horrid painting in the corner of the room. It was a haunting presence and he wanted with all of his might to burn it to a crisp. The woman looked up at him curiously and then back at the painting he had almost knocked over.

“What? That thing? I don’t really remember making it. Looks like I barely got a vision in at all. Unless you know what it is,” she sighed as she flicked her wand and the paint on his clothes suddenly disappeared. Edward looked down at himself and found that his jacket and slacks were completely cleaned.

“N-no. No I don’t,” Edward breathed, not wanting to admit that it was something that truly frightened him. He had the silly feeling that if he told anyone about it he might just end up trapped behind the mask all over again. He could still feel the metal pressing into his face.

_“Stop scratching your face,”_ Alphonse scolded him as Edward found himself back into his horrible habit. He dropped his hand stiffly to his side and tried his best to focus on what the professor was telling him.

“Well, while you are here, would you like a fortune? I have been giving a lot out lately, mainly to the headmaster, so my mind’s eye is very in tune. I feel like your signs are in the right place though you might not know it yet. You give off a very strong energy being so ancient.” Trelawney walked towards the small table in the corner with the crystal ball on it like she was light as air. Everything about her screamed whimsical yet insane. Edward was not comfortable. He never was around fortune tellers. She sat down and motioned for him to take a seat. He did not follow.

“No I just came here to-”

“To give me my book, yes I know. Though I feel like having painting lessons from the Eastern Sage himself might be worth more my while. Have you ever dabbled in Divinations? Alas, I don’t see extra classes being tacked on in your future,” she said down heartedly. “Well, may your soul be harmonized with the celestial sky and minds eye always be clear on your journey away from the past.” Edward stared at her for a few seconds however she seemed to have forgotten about him being there and was head deep into the crystal ball in front of her. He guessed that was her parting statement. Edward turned around and found himself trying his best not to sprint out of the tower as fast as he could. He only wanted to get away from the painting and the constraining feeling of the mask. Just as he reached his hand out for the trap door he heard the woman’s whimsical airy voice call out to him once more.

“Paracelsus, you will find what you are looking for soon enough. Do not be afraid of your ghosts for they will be your biggest aid,” she said after looking away from her crystal ball. That welcoming message sent Edward down the silver ladder faster than what would have been deemed safe. It was only after Edward had reached the third floor outside of his classroom that he had slowed down enough to catch his breath. He leaned tiredly against the statue of a strange one eyed witch and gulped in a few heavy breathes of air. His heart was beating rapidly and he felt his body shiver as the picture of the painting flew through his mind once more. Was the mask going to come back? Why was it in some crazy woman’s fortune? Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe she was picking up on pieces of history. Maybe it wasn’t the future at all. But it was nearly impossible for someone to imagine the past. The future was what divinations was for.

“ _Brother, it will be fine. Both of those things are locked away. You are safe.”_

“They were in the painting. Plain as day! How could she know? How did she know unless-“

_“Edward, when have you ever started believing in Divinations?”_ Winry scolded him. Edward frowned as he straightened his back against the statue. _“Your entire schooling you never took a single word from a fortune teller seriously. None of them ever came true! Now you are going to believe a woman who stays locked in a dusty tower all day?”_

“But she painted the mask. It was there!” Edward argued but he could feel Winry shake her head in disbelief.

“ _Edward, the future twists in many different ways. I am sure you will be fine in the end of it. Even if the mask somehow magically gets here to Hogwarts, we will always be with you. Remember that. You have not come this far to give up at the first sign of danger. You are Edward Elric_ ,” she said stiffly. Edward grinned tiredly and pushed himself off the statue. His heart had calmed down though his skin was still prickly with fear. He shook his hands to get the feeling off.

“You have too much faith in me,” he said lightly. A swirl of compassion and happiness swirled through him and eased his worry as the people inside of the stone threw their encouraging thoughts at him. He heard Winry chuckle in return.

“ _I have the right amount, alchemy freak_.”

“Gear head.”

…….


	10. Deathday Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward tries to overcome his fear of dungeons with the help of two red heads.

**_Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage_ **

Chapter 10

Deathday Party

 

Edward stared out of the doors to the Entrance Hall, feeling the light breeze of mid October slink its way through the castle. It was strangely warm for that far into the season and Edward just wished it would last a little longer. When the winter months rolled in he would expect it to have a great affect on his automail. Just imagining the pain made his spine shiver. He hoped it wouldn't be anything like the last time he storm went through.

Edward took a tiny sip of tea from the cup that he stole from the Great Hall and watched the owls fly in for morning post. Many of the students were probably receiving letters from their parents asking how school was going. He knew that Lockhart was receiving fan mail about now along with the most current newspaper with his face on the cover. Edward wished that one of the student’s cats would eat his owls and get a full stomach as if it were having its own fall feast. However, none of the student’s cats were allowed out of the dormitories by themselves and he doubted that the students would just sit back and watch their cat devour countless owls. He sighed, at last it was only a dream.

“What are you looking at?”

“BAH!” Edward exclaimed as he nearly toppled his tea in fright. He looked behind him to see Sir Porpington floating behind him, the sunlight of the morning falling delicately through him. Edward straightened himself out, unwilling to admit that his friend had actually scared him even though he was a ghost now. “Nothing, nothing really…. Just… enjoying the outdoors,” he muttered sadly as he turned back towards the door.

“Might I ask why you are not enjoying the outdoors… outdoors?” he asked him. “I can’t feel the sun anymore but I don't think you would get a tan from being inside. You look horribly pale.”

“Says you,” Edward smirked taking another sip of his drink. He looked over at his friend to see that he had a rather… bitter aura around him and Edward did not mean the immense cold that was coming from his floating form. “What’s got you kicking your grave stone?”

“Nothing…. Well… it’s not really anything to complain about…. But I just filled out an application and… apparently I don’t meet their standards! Could you believe that?” Nick said in absolute disgust.

“What are you talking about Nick?” Edward whined, and the apparition reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a transparent letter. Edward had no clue how ghost letters were made, he couldn’t picture anyone killing paper, but apparently, they had to send news somehow. Nick held it out to him and Edward took a step closer to read the silver cursive writing on the page. It was from the Headless Hunt, an apparent club of ghosts who have all lost their heads… literally. The paper was signed with a flourish at the bottom by Patrick Delaney-Podmore.

“ _Podmore?_ ” Edward asked in surprise. He couldn’t believe how many ghosts he knew before they were actually ghosts. “That arfarfanarf brags about his title yet got his head chopped off because he kissed the dutchess when he was practically drowning in alcohol! The only time he sobered up in his life was when he lost it, and that was because he couldn't drink anymore.”

“Arfarfen-what?" Nick asked with a chuckle at Edward's terminology.

"He's a drunken bastard!" Edward clarified. "The only reason why people liked him was because he was rich and knew how to flaunt it. Why do you want to hang out with him?"

“This is the Headless Hunt we are talking about! The most prestigious ghost club in all of Europe!” Nicholas explained but Edward rolled his eyes and muttered something about Podmore under his breath. “It’s a half inch of skin keeping me from joining. 45 times the executioner could have gotten me into the headless hunt but he left a half inch of skin connecting-”

“Nick, can we please not talk about this in gruesome detail. You do remember I was there right?” Edward asked him as he felt himself turning green with the thought of how much blood the axe had spilt.

“Oh… yes… my bad,” Nick said awkwardly. As if he remembered death wasn’t always a subject people wanted to talk about. Edward guessed that when you were dead, it was probably one of the best conversation starters. Unfortunately, along with being on the alive side of things, Edward was also one who witnessed his death first hand and would have liked anything to prevent him from remembering it again. “Well, it’s just I invited them to my 700th Death Day party in hopes that he might change his mind. I doubt it would work but…. Hey!” the ghost exclaimed with a snap of his fingers. “Paracelsus, would you like to come? You would be able to put in a good word for me, won’t you? It’s on Halloween night, I know the feast is going on but-”

“Of course, I will come, Nick!” Edward answered wondering why it was even a question in the first place. “You don’t need to ask me twice.”

“The reason why I really wanted to make sure was because… well, I remember your peculiar hatred for going in cellars. And the party is going to be held in the last dungeon... All the way down,” Nicholas admitted. Edward frowned and looked down at his cup as he realized what that meant. If he wanted to go to Nick’s party he would have to go down below ground. He felt his nerves twist even thinking about it.

“ _Brother he is your friend, you should at least try. If you can’t… he would understand but at least you tried,”_ Alphonse told him.

“ _We will find a way,”_ Winry encouraged. “ _You can overcome it.”_ Edward looked back at Nick’s silver floating form. He was waiting for an answer, hope evident in his clear eyes. Edward closed his eyes and took in a huge breath.

“Yes,” he said finally. “I will… try.... To go.” It felt like he was forcing the words from his mouth. He nearly choked on them, but he managed to make the promise.

“Wonderful! I am so excited! It has been a long time since we partied together. Let me say, I might not be as lively as I once was, Paracelsus!” Nick said slyly. Edward chuckled weakly as the apparition took his leave with high hopes while his own were plummeting fast. Edward ran his hand through his bangs and stood there in slight panic.

“What am I going to do?” he whined to himself as he tried to figure out how to go and get out of his commitment all at once.

“ _Let me tell you what you are going to do,”_ Winry said. “ _You are going to overcome this fear-”_

“You make it sound easier than it is,” Edward complained.

“ _Baby steps. You don’t have to dive to the bottom of the dungeons first go, Edward. Baby steps.”_

“ _Brother, you have been claustrophobic and afraid of basements for ages now, 1000 years exactly-”_

“And I have good reason to be!” Edward snapped.

_“We know, but can’t you imagine not being afraid anymore?”_ Alphonse reasoned.

….

_“Paracelsus, your grades in herbology and potions have been plummeting. You have not shown up to any of those classes. I don’t think you understand what this means,” Professor Ravenclaw scolded him from behind her desk. Edward turned his eyes down to the ground in shame. He was standing in her office after being invited for tea. He knew by the way she had made the offer that he was in trouble. Edward bit his lip but did not say anything to defend himself. He knew the consequences for skipping his class and he had no excuse. Professor Ravenclaw frowned as she watched him and waited for an answer. She didn’t get any._

_“King Arthur sent you here for diplomatic security. He bought you from the Duke’s dungeon but that doesn’t mean you are free. You being here is the only thing that is keeping you from going back to the King in shackles. If you don’t become a wizard for his court, you are going back to the dungeons. Why are you not going to your classes?” Ravenclaw scolded him sharply. Her voice was stern and sharp. It cut Edward bare and easily planted the fear into him. Tears welled in his eyes and he shook his head, trying to deny the fact that he was crying._

_“I-I can’t go back to the dungeons. I can’t go in the dungeons,” he repeated over and over again. His weak legs started to shake as his body began to quiver with his sobs. His muscles had strengthened since his time wasting away in the Duke’s dungeons but they were still very weak. A chair flew beneath him by an invisible force and he collapsed down into it. Ravenclaw looked annoyed with him._

_“If you don’t want to go back, then why are you failing out by missing your classes? We can’t keep you here if you don’t put your effort in!” she argued. Edward dropped his head into his hands. He didn’t attempt to wipe the tears away. He knew by now that they wouldn’t stop._

_“I-I can’t go into the dungeons. I-I try every day. I try to go to the dungeons a-and the basement for my classes. I-I can’t go into the dungeons. I-I can’t go back there!” he cried. He repeated himself, begging her not to send him back. He begged and begged hoping that she would listen to him, unlike all of the guards the kept him locked up in the Duke’s dungeon. Ravenclaw frowned at him as she listened to his babbling. After a few moments of listening to him, she stood and flicked her wand. The silver form of a raven patronus spat out of her wand._

_“Tell Helga and Salazar to come to my office about Paracelsus’ stay here. We need to make some class changes.” The raven flew away out of the office. Another flick of her wand had a boiling pot of steeping tea on her desk with two cups. Edward barely noticed as he was still muttering to himself his quiet plea. However, he soon found a warm cup of tea placed into his quivering hands._

_“Paracelsus’, we will sort this out,” Ravenclaw told him. Her voice was still stern but it was quiet and enough to reassure him that it would be alright. He would be alright._

……

Edward frowned as he looked back around the castle. He remembered when the witch trials failed to kill him and they found out the mask could contain him. He was imprisoned in the Duke’s dungeon for two years with nothing but four walls and his own nightmares to keep him occupied. It had been 1000 years since the witch trials yet he could still feel the heavy chains around his wrists and the edge of the mask pressing into the sides of his head. He remembered when he was eventually taken to Hogwarts having to have separate lessons with Professor Slytherin and Hufflepuff just to learn potions and his herbology lectures? He hadn’t been in the dungeons since then and he thought that he never would have to be again. He knew the fear hadn’t gone away but he never had to face it as straight on as he had to do now. How many more times did he have to go back down to the dungeons to give something to Severus? How many more times would he have to step foot in the lower floors? It was something that loomed over him and now was more prominent than it had ever been since he was back in the castle. He had to face it.

“O-Okay,” he relented, clenching his fist. He couldn’t tell if it was in determination or in trepidation, but he would have liked to think the prior. Edward returned his gaze back outside to watch the morning take its time rolling out over the lawn of Hogwarts. Why couldn't ghosts have their parties outdoors? He wondered, taking a sip of his tea in an attempt to calm himself down but only to find that he had lost his liking for it.

"What are you looking at?" a voice came out behind him again. Edward leapt out of his skin and the cup clattered to the ground shattering on impact on the stone. The loud noise just made him jump again. Grabbing his chest to calm his racing heart, he felt like his nerves were being strung far and wide that morning.

"Does everyone want to scare me in the mornings?" he gasped, bending down and alchemically fixing the cup that shattered. His tea was a loss but he had a feeling that he wasn't going to finish it anyways.

"You just seem so approachable," the stranger joked and Edward turned around and gave his best offensive glare at them just to find two red heads staring at him. He knew that red hair meant that there was a 99% chance that the person was a Weasley. Since there were two of them and Edward was fearing he was seeing double with how alike they were, he guessed that these were the famous Weasley twins, Fred and George. He had never met them because they were too old to be in his class but rumors from the faculty told him that they were mischief makers at best, the devils at worse.

"Most of the students are scared of me," he stated flatly as if that would ward them off, but the twins shrugged.

"We aren't most students."

"What do you want," he ground out, hoping they would just leave him alone.

"I think your owl got a bit concussed when it broke through the window in the Great Hall and it gave us your mail," one of them, he couldn't tell which, said.

"My Owl? I don't have a-" Edward started but then spotted the Groundskeeper coming out of the Great Hall carrying a rather beaten looking owl. It appeared that the large man wanted to help it. Edward knew from the short talks that they had, which were very few and far inbetween since Edward's personality and being seemed to ward the man away, that the groundskeeper had a fascination for animals. As the man passed by through the doors to the grounds, not without a particular wary glance his way, Edward got a closer look at the bird. It was the one that had broke in through his window the few weeks prior and it seemed to make a habit of it. He groaned as he massaged his face in irritation.

"That's not my bird I was just borrowing it," he muttered, turning his attention back towards the twins.

"I would suggest you go to the owlery and find a better one."

"That one has seen better days," the other twin added.

"Just give me my mail," Edward growled at them, holding his hand out to them expecting them to hand it over. They offered him a paper wrapped package which looked a little worse for wear but was luckily still intact. He took it from them a little too roughly and he heard the contents clink slightly in retaliation.

" _What is that?_ " he heard Alphonse ask him curiously.

"Nothing," Edward said quickly as he opened the package hoping that the contents weren't too rattled. A few large vials of potions ingredients poked out of the wrapping along with a silver fountain pen. Though they were battered, the vials were intact and he let out a sigh of relief.

_"Brother did you use your entire paycheck to buy potion's ingredients for Snape?"_ he asked in disbelief. Edward grimaced as he plucked the pen out and quickly wrapped the package back up. He pocketed the pen and tucked the package underneath his arm. Along with sending the owl out on other errands such as getting himself a fountain pen instead of struggling with a quill, he had send his most recent paycheck out to get Severus replacements for the potion ingredients he had broke in the beginning of the year. The multiple requests had taken the owl a very long time to return with the orders. However, with the state the owl was in, he doubted he would be able to use it again. He would have to figure out another way to get an owl for himself.

"Why do you have to sound so shocked about it?" Edward grumbled underneath his breath to his brother before turning back towards the twins who didn't think better to leave him be. They were looking at him, not put off that he was talking to himself, but rather intrigued. As he heard of them from the other teachers, they must have heard of him from the students.

"You look familiar-"

"I teach here. Of course I look familiar," Edward retorted with a huff as he walked away from them, heading towards the Great Hall. The twins kept pace with him easily, not giving him room to even breathe.

"No as in seeing your somewhere before," one of them commented.

"Like a book, or picture-"

"It couldn't have been a book, George. We don't read," the one Edward finally designated as Fred smirked with a teasing grin on his face.

"I don't know where," Edward groaned. "I don't get out much-"

"That's obvious."

"You look horribly pale… Like a ghost," George pushed. Edward rolled his eyes as he poked his head into the Great Hall. He looked up to the High Table and saw only a few of the professors were still straggling at breakfast. The meal was almost over and classes were about to start soon so most of the students and teachers were leaving to start the day. Unfortunately, the person Edward was looking for wasn't there.

"Where's Snape?" Edward groaned, asking the red-heads for help. He had a feeling of what the answer was going to be.

"He's probably in his classroom, professor."

"We have potions first class." Edward felt his heart fall as he glanced over towards the staircase that lead down towards the dungeons. A slight feeling of nausea came over him as he forced his way over towards the entrance to hell. He kept reminding himself that it was just a dungeon, it wasn't even _the_ dungeon, yet the fear inside of him only grew the closer he got to it. The air around him seemed to become terribly thick as he looked down into the darkness. He took a slight step back but accidentally bumped into the twins that were standing dangerously close to him. He could barely contain himself from begging them to take the package down for him. Unfortunately, his brother had other plans.

" _Brother, this would be a good start to overcoming your fear. Remember you promised Nick you would try-"_

"I didn't know it would be so soon," Edward hissed at him, feeling his heart skip in his chest as he dared to take another glance at the entrance. He sucked in a breath and turned around to get a good couple feet distance from the place. He needed air desperately, and the dungeon wasn't giving it to him. The feelings of the shackles around his wrists faded with every step he took and the sense of relief just made him want to run even farther away.

"Professor, are you alright?" Fred asked him, stopping him in his tracks. Edward glanced over his shoulder to see the twins normal mischievous grins replaced with a worried frown. 

"N-no, I mean yes!" Edward stumbled. "Why wouldn't I be alright? Perfectly fine-"

"You seem scared-"

"I am not!'

"Are you afraid of the dungeons?" George asked him, connecting destination to reaction.

"N-No! That's stupid! Why would I be afraid of something like that?" Edward exclaimed, feeling his face grow red with embarrassment. The twins glanced at each other not convinced and Edward found himself taking a shaky solitary step back towards the dungeon entrance just to prove his point. They still weren't convinced. "I-I am not!"

"Professor, there is nothing wrong with that," Fred told him softly. "Our own baby brother is afraid of spiders."

"Deathly afraid of them. Wouldn't even look at one," George elaborated.

"I am not afraid of the dungeons I… I just don't like them, that's all and… I have other things to do…"

"Professor, we are going down to the dungeons anyways for class. Do you want us to take the package down for you?"

_"Ed, you need to work on this for Nick,"_ Winry reminded him as he was just about to hand the package off to his students. Before they could grab a hold of it, he retracted a little as the guilt settled in his stomach. It didn't mix too well with the fear that was already lived there. He had promised Nick because he wanted to help, but now that he had to face the dungeons he felt the reality of that promise slip away. " _An Elric never breaks a promise,"_ she noted, making him feel even worse than before yet it drove him into tucking it back underneath his arm with a trembling hand. He sucked in a huge breath and shook his head at the twins.

"No I… I can take it," he muttered, angry that there was a noticeable shake in his voice. The twins looked at each other and stepped aside to make a path for him back to the dungeon entrance. His leadened feet dragged themselves back to the top of the stairs and he peered back down into the darkness.

_"You did it before. You can do it again. Just try not to throw the package this time. You were very thoughtful to get it for him,"_ his brother smiled.

"I won't," Edward grumbled as he attempted to take his first step and casually walk down the stairs just to spite the twins but his legs wouldn't budge. He was locked in place.

"Professor, do you need help?" George asked him. Edward didn't tear his eyes off of the staircase but he could just picture their faces, confused and concerned. He didn't think that the notorious tricksters could hold those emotions.

"No, I did this before… I just need to take my time," he told them quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He was kind of hoping that if he talked softly, the tremors in his voice wouldn't be noticeable.

"How long did it take you to go down the last time?"

_"20 minutes just to cross the threshold,"_ Roy's voice said. " _I timed."_

"Shut up," Edward gritted. The red hair of the twins came into his view as they descended a couple steps on the staircase. They looked up at him from where they stood calmly on the steps. They made it look so easy.

"Come on Professor, we will go down together," Fred offered, holding out his hand for him. Edward looked at it hesitantly. He really didn't want help going down into the dungeons. He could do it himself… eventually. Yet against his strong will and determination, his hand struck out and latched onto the kid's tightly as if on reflex. The redhead's eyes widened with how tight he held onto him and had to pry his hand out of his grip. He cradled it lightly and tried to shake the pain out.

"Okay, maybe no contact," he smirked shakily up at Edward who tried to imitate his smile but failed at a grimace. "How about you just take the first few steps?"

"Alright," he trembled as he forced his foot to move. It felt like lead and didn't want to move at first but he kept urging himself forward and soon he found himself meeting the twins on the staircase. Cheers picked up inside of him as his friends in the stone were excited for his success. He heard Roy mutter something about it only taking him 10 minutes that time around. Edward would have rolled his eyes but they were too transfixed to the dim corridor ahead of him.

"Okay, just a few more," George echoed and their pattern continued. The twins accompanied him down the staircase to the lower floor that made up the dungeons. Edward hated to have his students watch him in such a state yet he was grateful for their presence. He found it so much easier and faster when he could actually see someone there with him. Though the souls in the stone were supportive, he couldn't see them. Knowing they were there wasn't enough. He had to be sure of it.

"Professor, where have we seen you before?" one of the twins asked. Edward couldn't tell which as he was focused on his feet, hoping that his shaky legs would cave underneath him.

"I-I don't know. I never met you before now," Edward told them honestly, not feeling up for a snide comment he wanted to give.

"It couldn't have been a book, or the newspaper," George muttered as they seemed stuck on the question.

"A magazine just doesn't feel right," Fred added.

"You're probably just.. Imagining things," Edward commented underneath his breath but the twins shook their heads.

"No we really think we saw you before just-" George started but there was a sudden snap of someone's fingers. The sound nearly sent Edward back up the corridor but the twins managed to calm him down enough to stay in the lower floors of the castle. He glared at him as he felt his nerves rattling around in his chest as the fear was blown through them.

"You assholes," he muttered under his breath along with many other curses as he had to regain the ground that he had lost. He had made so much progress and now he was delayed from freedom just because one of them snapped their fingers. He felt utterly foolish.

"Sorry, Professor," the kid muttered innocently. "I just thought I figured it out. George doesn't he look like that one card we always steal from Ron?"

"Card? Famous Witches and Wizards Card?"

"Yeah-" Fred started but saw the confused look on Edward's face as he didn't know what they were talking about. "Professor, don't tell Ron, but the reason why he hasn't finished collecting all of the cards at the bottom of the chocolate frogs yet is because we keep stealing one of his cards."

"Whenever he gets one we manage to take it and he's never the wiser," George explained with a smirk.

"You two are evil," Edward muttered as he looked slightly at his hand. The one that was usually shaking out of control was calming down slightly with the normal conversation. He grasped it to his chest lightly and turned his full attention on the twins for that moment. Maybe he could get through this if he was focused on something else. "What card was it?" he asked, only slightly curious but desperate for a distraction.

"Number 310, Paracelsus-"

"WHAT!" Edward shouted as his feet came to a halt. The twins glanced at each other suspiciously but nodded their heads.

"Yeah, we were just thinking you look kind of like him. You even have a metal arm like he did on the card-"

"But without a beard-"

"A BEARD!" He raged. "What are wizard's obsessions over beards! Merlin's beard this, Merlins beard that. Merlin never even had a beard! Now you are saying they make me have a beard?! Soon they are going to be saying Edward's beard!" He finished his rant, not at all satisfied. Why did wizards assume that all great minds had to be accompanied by beards. Beards didn't mean wisdom they meant the person didn't have the decency to shave. Edward crossed his arms in aggravation and smoldered there for a few seconds. Unfortunately, he happened to glance over and see the absolute dumbfounded expressions on the twins faces. Just realizing what he had admitted to the students, Edward groaned to himself and dropped his face into his hands. "Oh god."

"Professor, are you really-"

"Don't tell anyone," he ordered them before they could explode with excitement. "Damn it! Don't tell anyone! I don't want stupid students bugging me for my life story. It isn't interesting and I don't want to talk about it. I am just Edward, okay?"

"How many people know?"

"Just the faculty. But they know not to bug me," he growled. The twins chuckled in disbelief as they stared open mouthed at him.

"The card our brother has been missing for years is now his teacher this year?"

"This is absolutely amazing. You must be ancient!-"

"Ancient history ended before me. I am not that old," Edward growled as he tried his best to ignore the students hoping they weren't making a big deal about it. Looking back down the hallway he saw the darkness creeping towards him. He took in a sharp gasp as he looked around remembering where he was that whole time. With the conversation becoming so involved he had forgotten where he was for just a few blissful minutes. Now it was all rushing back to him. Heart freezing over, his body became petrified in its place as he stared into the darkness. The stone walls felt like they were closing in on him and he feared they would crush him if he stayed. He staggered back, where he thought the staircase would be towards his freedom but the twins were in the way.

"Professor, where are you going?" George asked, suddenly aware of his change in demeanor. The excitement of their revelation vanished as they realised that their professor was panicking again.

"i-I got to get out of here," he wheezed, his voice barely able to make a sound. He grabbed the package from underneath his arm and shoved it in one of the student's chests. "Here, take it-"

"But Professor-"

"We are here," George finished pointing to the door they were standing next to. Edward glanced over, wide eyed at the large black wooden door. They were there? Already? He wanted to rush in and throw the package at Severus and run out before the door could lock him in.

_"Brother, you are so close-"_ The twins opened the door and walked into their classroom making the action look so easy. Edward felt his legs wanting to follow yet they were glued to the ground. He clutched the package to his chest and stared into the classroom. It looked more lively than the last time he was there. Students were sitting at a couple benches and cauldrons were bubbling. There was a sneering voice the instant the twins walked in, scolding them for being late.

"Professor Snape, we were just helping Professor Elric-"

"No excuses. Get to your chairs," the man snipped. As the twins vanished from the doorway, another familiar face appeared to replace them. Severus looked him over, his face a statue yet his eyes bearing some curiosity to them. His eyes latched onto the package he was holding and seemed to realise that it was the reason he made that perilous journey to begin with. "Elric, I told you to get someone else to run errands down here-"

"Th-this one's from me," Edward said halfmindedly as the other half was wandering with his eyes to the staircase.

"From you?" he asked, very confused. Edward quickly nodded his head as he practically threw the package at the man against his will of wanting to hand it over nicely. He quickly apologised as Severus stumbled to catch a hold of it. He looked from the brown wrapping up to him, surprised. It seemed he didn't get a lot of gifts in his time. Edward shifted nervously and glanced back towards the door again. It seemed so much farther now than it ever was. Seeing him look back, Severus sighed and straightened himself out.

"Elric, come on in-" he said but Edward just shook his head stubbornly. "I don't trust you to wait there so Elric come in," he more than ordered him. Edward found his shaky led legs shuffling into the dark classroom. He bit his lip as he saw all of the students staring at him. The Weasley twins were giving him a thumbs up to tell him he was doing well but that didn't make him feel any better. Suddenly Edward felt a large wooden case press into his stomach and he looked down to see Severus holding it out for him. He felt his shaky hands grab a hold of it and when he did there was a light tinkle of vials on the inside.

"These are some of the student's Peace draughts that they made last week. Their proportions are right but are too strong for a normal person to use. I failed them, however, for your sake, they might just be enough," Severus said as he released his hold on the box. Edward fumble with the weight but after a glare from the potion's master he was able to get a hold of it.

"I-I don't need-" Edward started, turning slightly red from the thought of having to take a peace drought but the man just stared at him, seeing right through his lie.

"Just until you are able to come down and not make my students late for class," he told him stiffly. Edward frowned and looked down at the box. There sounded to be a lot in there. He looked back to see the whole class of students staring at him expectedly and he turned red. Tucking the box under his arm, he gave a quick thanks to Severus before heading to the door. He tried to keep control of his walk but only managed to contain it to a sprint. He heard Severus calling out for him but by that time he was already running down the corridor towards the staircase for freedom, the vials clanking in their case. When he got back out into the entryway Edward took a big gasping breath of air and leaned against the wall by the threshold. His legs were shaking as well as his hand and he had to put the case of potions down for a little bit as he rested. He feared that his trembling hands might just drop it. Edward collapsed down to the ground and pressed his back securely against the wall, pulling his knees to his chest. He sucked in a huge breath and released it, hoping to calm his nerves from their wired state.

" _Brother you did well. That was nice what you did for Severus,"_ Alphonse complimented him. Edward breathed in and smiled shakily, not able to do much else.

"I-I did it…," he gasped, excitement overwhelming his lingering fear.

_"Are you willing to try again later when the time comes?"_ Winry asked him. Edward frowned. He knew that there were going to be more errands to run. He couldn't expect to be able to go to Nick's party with just one go. He needed to keep at it to break his fear. But to go through all of that again?? What if he didn't have anyone to talk to next time? What if Peeves showed up again? Though he had many questions on what the next trip to the dungeons could hold, Edward nodded his head. For Nick, he would do it.

……….

Harry snuck out of Filch's office as Peeve's crashed cabinets down the corridor. It was just what he needed to get out of a good night's detention just for tracking mud into the castle. There wasn't even that much of it but the caretaker was always in a bad mood when it came to students. He should have taken Nearly Headless Nick's advice earlier and stayed away from that corridor. He probably wouldn't have been caught otherwise. However after that morning's quidditch practise in the muddy field, he just wanted to go the fast way back to his dorms so he could catch up on some well needed rest. Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, was making them get up extremely early just so that they could get an extra hour of practice. The entire team would have rather had an extra hour of sleep, but their embarrassing loss to Ravenclaw last year was good motivation. 

"Harry!" he heard someone exclaim and he looked over to see Nick's ghostly head poke out through the wall as if he too was hiding from Filch. "Did it work? I sent Peeves to go tip over some courier cabinets as a distraction. Hope you didn't get into too much trouble-"

"None at all," Harry said, surprised that the ghost would do such a thing for him. He always thought Nick was a nice ghost, they talked a few times, but he never thought he was daring or adventurous as to take such a risk to get him out of Filch's grimy claws. Something seemed different about him. Instead of the cold air that ghosts give off, though that was chilling Harry a bit to the point that he had to pull his quidditch robes a little tighter around himself, Nick seemed to be a little more happy than the normal gloom of death. "How are you doing Nick?" he questioned, not wanting to leave the man who saved him from Filch with anything less than a decent conversation. He owed at least that.

"Just.. well, my 700th Deathday party is coming up and I am just so glad that one of my old friend is able to come. He wants to put in a good word for me to the Headless Hunt," Nick said, a smile on his pale face. "It has been such a long time since we partied together. I hope I still got it in me-"

"That's…. Good," Harry said hesitantly, not sure if he should congratulate the ghost on his death or mourn it. Nick seemed very excited for it though and that seemed to be a sign that it was more or less a good thing. However, as the ghost pondered there a bit, probably daydreaming about his party, he seemed to grow concerned.

"Oh dear," he muttered. "I just realised that he would be the only lifeful person at the event. I don't want him to feel left out. Ghosts sometimes can be very reluctant to talk to the living. It might seem dull for him."

"Oh, well that's too bad," Harry said half mindedly just wanting to leave the dead conversation and get back to his dorms. He could picture the warm shower and pajamas already. Nick's cold aura wasn't doing anything to help his wandering mind as he shivered underneath his mud soaked robes. Harry was planning on ignoring his potion's homework just for a restful weekend. He hadn't had one of those in such a long time. However instead of saying salutations, Nick snapped his ghostly fingers and the smile instantly returned to his face.

"Harry… would you be able to come to my Death Day party on Halloween, just so he would have someone to talk to? Of course, if you would rather go to the feast, that's okay. Your friends are invited too. I just was hoping to make it more exciting own there-"

"O-Okay," Harry said reluctantly. He would love to go to the Halloween feast however Nick did help him out of a good detention. Maybe he owed him a little more than just a simple conversation. Though his mouth already watered for all of the candies that would be at the feast, Harry agreed to go to his party. Who knew? Maybe ghosts were a little livelier when it came to parties. He just hoped that his friends would agree to go with him. He didn't want to be stuck there alone with one of Nicks ancient friends as his only form of conversation. The man was old and probably couldn't remember much.

"Thank you!" Nick exclaimed. "I can't wait. Paracelsus is definitely going to be happy to see some familiar faces that aren't beyond the grave-"

"Wait," Harry halted Nick from floating away. "Do you mean I know him?" he asked. Nick looked at him confused.

"Of course! He is staying here in the castle this year, very reluctantly I might add," Nick told him. Harry frowned. He didn't know that there was anyone like that staying in the castle. Surely a new person would have been announced at the opening feast. Harry would have asked more questions but he heard sudden curses behind him as Filch must have been returning. Nicholas quickly ushered him off with a few more words of gratitude and Harry went running down the hall in hopes of not being caught again. He was sure that detention wouldn't have been all that decent if he was caught escaping from his first one.

Harry ran up through the castle and towards the Gryffindor dormitory. The other students were just getting up to start their weekend as it was still early in the morning. He was glad to see that Hermione and Ron were up. Ron would have usually slept in on the weekend however Hermione knew he had a lot of homework to catch up on and must have woken him up for it. He didn't look pleased, but hopefully with his news he would be cheered up. Harry still didn't know quite what to think of it.

"So you are telling me," Ron pronounced slowly as if he was having trouble hearing what Harry had just told him, "that Paracelsus, _the Paracelsus_ , is staying in the castle?" Harry nodded his head. "Why didn't we know?! We have got to meet him. Do you understand how extraordinary this is?!" he exclaimed. "He's one of the rarest wizard cards out there. The only one I don't have!"

"Harry, Paracelsus is the person who invented alchemy. He taught Nicholas Flamel. He has been alive for centuries yet no one knows where he is. Are you sure it is him?"

“That was what Sir Nick said.”

“I would like to meet him, maybe we could talk to him about the stone. Our alchemy classes aren’t getting very far. We are only learning basic chemistry and circles yet. If Professor Elric is worried about the stone, we might be able to ask Paracelsus why-“

"You’re still going off about the stone? It was destroyed, remember? That was what Dumbledore said,” Ron argued.

“Yet Professor Elric was looking for it all the same,” Hermione reasoned. “We are the ones who got closest to the stone. What if it isn’t what we thought it was? We should be able to know why someone else is searching for it. I think we should go to the party to find out.”

“I don’t care about the stone but I want to go to the party. I just want to see Professor Elric's face when he knows that Paracelsus himself is in the castle. Ha! Maybe then Professor Elric would stop being so prideful," Ron grumbled just to get a smack over the shoulder from Hermione.

"But it is over Halloween Feast. Are you sure you would want to miss that?" Harry asked them to make sure it was something they actually wanted to do.

"Of course!" Hermione replied with a smile. "This is exciting isn't it? We have never been to a deathday party before. I wonder what it is like."

"I don't care about the party. I want to meet Paracelsus! It is a once in a century opportunity!"

………..


	11. The Eastern Sage

**_Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage_ **

Chapter Eleven

The Eastern Sage

 

The weeks of October blew by very fast and Edward soon found himself standing on the top of the dungeon stairs with a small stew pot in his hands that smelled as if it had turned a century ago. He didn't want to come to the party empty handed even though he knew that the house elves were preparing the food for the event. Since he couldn't bring a ghostly tangible item, Edward settled with trying to make something that the guests could at least try to taste. He tried to make Pinako's stew. It was a debauchery of the recipe for the soul reason that Edward used purely rotten ingredients to give the ghosts a stronger taste. Since they couldn't physically eat the meal, the aroma had to be strong enough for them to at least phase through it. It let them imagine all the more. Unfortunately the stench had Edward's eyes watering and he just hoped to put it down as soon as possible. It would be a treat for the ghosts but for him, not so much.

"Are you ready?" Mustang asked him calmly. Edward stared down into the darkness of the dungeon and took in a deep breath. He had been trying to overcome his fear for a while now, and it took less and less time for him to actually make it down the steps. Though he was still anxious inside the dungeons, he had been down there enough times to understand that it was something he could do, even if he just didn't want to. To make things easier that night Edward had taken some precautions so he could try and relax at the party. He had taken a vial of Snape's Peace Draught that he gave him and brought Mustang out as some support. He had remembered from the Weasley twins that it was easier to go down with someone than by himself so he wanted to be prepared. He would have rather wanted Alphonse to join him instead however he knew that if his anxiety overwhelmed him while he was down there Alphonse would try to comfort him a little too physically. Edward didn't think he could handle a metal body touching him down in the dungeons. It would have been too much like shackles for him to bear.

Edward shivered with that though but managed to slowly nod his head as Mustang took the first step down into the darkness of the dungeons below. Edward took another deep breath, careful to breathe through his mouth and not his nose because of the stew, and followed him with wary steps. Mustang kept up light conversation to distract him and Edward soon found him all the way down in the absolute end of the dungeon corridor. The stone walls sucked all of the heat from the air and Edward was grateful that he had worn his red cloak that evening. The heat of the castle didn't reach all the way down in the dungeons and with as many ghosts as there would have been in the party he was sure he would have froze without it.

Mustang who was standing behind him leaned over his shoulder and gave a light knock on the door. There was a slight pause and out of nowhere Sir Porpington's silver head popped right through it.

"Ah you made it! You made it!" he exclaimed a bright smile on his face. "I was afraid that being this far down in the dungeons would have been too much for you."

"I am rather surprised too," Edward smiled weakly, rather not wanting to talk about his fears as he was standing in the middle of them. He raised his stewpot in his hands to show Nicholas, the smell becoming more overbearing the closer it came to him. "Do you have somewhere I could set this?" he asked.

"Of course, of course! I would open the door but… well… you know," Nick chuckled lightly. "I am sure your friend here can get it for you though. You wouldn't mind leaving it open? I am expecting other guests as well," he said as Mustang quickly opened the door for him, ignoring the fact that Nick's head was still stuck through it.

The room was dimly lit with candles of glowing blue flame. It casted an eerie light across a rather beautiful yet dreary display. Black sashes and curtains decorated the cold stone dungeon room and the table was dressed similarly. Charmed instruments in the corner played light dirges for the guests to march to. If anyone ever felt the need to dance it was quickly knocked out of them with that tune. Funeral lilies were the only thing to really brighten the mood of the room but even then it was still mournful. Many ghosts who were there floated around like they were at a cocktail party. They appeared to be giving condolences to Nicholas as they passed however for ghosts this must have been the norm as it still seemed light hearted. Edward mused in the differences between ghost's party taste and their own.

"You can set it right here," Nicholas pointed to a nice open spot on the food table. The stench was horrible that close to it and Edward quickly placed his own dish on the table and took a few steps back from it to free his nose of the smell. He would have compared it to curdled milk but since he suspected that was already there he had nothing else to describe it with. However, as much as it made his own skin crawl, Nicholas seemed absolutely delighted in the spread. "I wasn't expecting you to bring anything, but the more the merrier. Do you mind if I-"

"No, go right ahead," Edward said, attempting a smile through his watering eyes. He took another step back to get away from the smell. The ghost quickly floated through the pot and arose out of the table with an absolute smile on his face.

"Oh! I can almost taste it! You really know how to cook a good stew, Paracelsus! It is so much stronger than any of the other food here," Nicholas exclaimed as he waved to the other dishes at the table. "Though the house elves do try their best, they simply make dishes and wait for them to spoil. It isn't as enjoyable when you make a dish with already fermented ingredients," the ghost noted as he beckoned other guests to try his stew. Only a couple of them came over for it but they were all amazed at the power. Edward rubbed the back of his neck modestly.

"It was an old recipe I used to like. Granny Pinako always made it. I don't know if it as good as hers though for the sole reason that I can't eat it like that to find out!" Edward chuckled, making Nick laugh.

"I would hate to see you try. I hope you had something to eat. I tried to tell the cooking staff that there would be non-ghostly entities here however it seemed to have slipped their mind."

"I ate before I came down and I made sure to bring some sandwiches down incase I got peckish-"

"And your friend?" Nick asked motioning to Mustang's large armor. Edward nearly smacked himself for forgetting to introduce him to Mustang. Though the Colonel knew all too well about Nicholas and their endeavors together, Nick never saw Mustang nor really knew he existed at all. Edward never attached souls to armor when he was studying in the muggle community. If they should have had to return to the stone in a public place… Edward feared what the consequences would have been from either muggle or wizarding community.

"Nick, this is Roy Mustang. He used to be my commanding officer in the military back home."

"Used to be?" Mustang asked sarcastically. Edward could have just pictured his knowing smirk on his face should his helmet actually have allowed for expressions. "I don't remember you ever resigning."

"Hey, if I am still in the military I better be seeing some really nice retirement funds coming my way with all my years in service," Edward retorted effectively shutting the man up on the subject of money. That penny pincher.

Edward and Nick talked for a short while and the ghost introduced him to his other ghostly friends. Even some of them stated that they grew up hearing stories of the Eastern Sage and Merlin's friend. They asked philosophical questions on life and death and how extraordinary it was that he avoided it. Ghosts enjoyed philosophy especially if it could lead the conversation to their own demise. After hearing stories of beheadings, suicides, and murder, Edward had to take a step back from the morbid conversations for a while. Even though he was at a Deathday party there was only so much death one person could take.

He stood off to the side of the party watching the ghosts chatter amongst themselves and some even take to the dance floor. Even in death Nick looked more lively at a party. He sighed as he watched them remembering the very few parties he had been to back in Amestris. He missed talking to his friends in person, seeing their smiles. The images of their faces were starting to fade from his memory and now he could barely picture a smile on anyone's face who now resided in the stone. He felt a pain of sadness fly through him and he touched his chest lightly as if that would ease it. How could he start to forget even his own brother's face?

"I know this is more like a funeral than anything else but you could at least pretend to enjoy yourself," he heard Mustang say to him. Edward glanced up to where the tall armor was towering over him and gave a weak smile. The man reached up and unclipped his chest piece to open his cavity and pulled out a small canteen of water that they had packed before. As Edward was carrying the stew pot, Mustang was carrying the edible items that they had brought along. He held them inside hi armor so that they wouldn't be in the way. Why would they busy a ghostly party with human things? Edward took it gratefully and took a sip of it. Though it was just water, it surely made him feel better. Mustang watched him all the while and didn't take his eyes off of him as if he was afraid he was going to hurt himself. Edward knew he was just worried.

"You worked so hard to even get here," Roy reminded him softly. "Don't let a few negative thoughts stop you from having a good time."

"Do you think…" Edward started but stopped for a minute and shook his head, quickly capping the canteen he was holding. He set it down on a nearby table and crossed his arms tiredly. He shouldn't delve into such questions tonight. Not down here at least. Mustang lifted his hand to set it on his shoulder but quickly retreated as he remembered his body was made of cold metal. While Edward was fighting negative thoughts it was a bad idea to touch him with it, especially in the dungeons. For his consideration, Edward was grateful.

"You should go and try doing light firecrackers with alchemy. I know ghosts like deadly things," Edward muttered. Roy looked reluctant to leave but after a moment's long hesitation, he turned to go find Nicholas. Edward obviously didn't want to get his spirits down as well. Uncapping the canteen again, he took another long cold sip of water. It was refreshing except when an unexpected surprise had you spitting it out.

……

"Gosh it is cold down here," Ron muttered as the three of them walked to the lower levels of the dungeon. The three gryffindors had taken a little detour in order to skip the feast without getting caught so they were late getting to the dungeons. If Professor Snape didn't spend his entire time down there they would have been down sooner.

"I hope we aren't late," Hermione said as they reached the door to the last dungeon. It was propped open and they could see ghosts floating around inside and hear a screeching noise like nails grinding a chalkboard.

"Is that supposed to be music?" Harry asked as they inched their way inside. It was rather gloomy, not what they were expecting at all for a party but rather a funeral. Harry guessed that it wasn't a deathday party for no reason. It seemed to fit the part. Ghosts looked down at them curiously as if they were surprised that someone actually had to use the door instead of flying right through it. Harry suddenly felt unsure whether he made the right choice in bringing his friends down there. It seemed to be a horrible way of spending the evening especially when there was a perfectly warm and delicious feast upstairs. Ron however didn't seem to mind how horrible the party was at first, he was bouncing anxiously wanting to meet the famous wizard Paracelsus. Nick however was the first face they found.

"Ah! You made it! I am so glad you came!" Nick exclaimed, ushering them farther into the freezing room. Harry really wished that he had brought a thicker set of robes as Nick's hand accidentaly glazed through him. It felt like an ice bucket was dumped on his head. "Paracelsus seems to be feeling rather down. His friend voiced his concerns to me just a few minutes ago. I really thought that this party would have excited him. He used to really like going out back in the day but I don't know what happened-"

"Nick, could the fact that you died have anything to do with it?" Hermione asked very concerned. The ghost frowned suddenly as if he didn't think of that before.

"Oh dear, and this was supposed to be a happy occasion. I never thought… he was there after all… it must be such a big slap in the face. I feel horrible," Nearly Headless Nick whispered as he realised the big flaw in his party plans. For humans death wasn't such an easy thing to handle. Harry was still rather confused on whether to congratulate him for his party of be sad for his passing. "Do you think I should talk to him?"

"We will talk to him," Ron volunteered eagerly. It was obvious it was more for himself than for Nick's sake. He just wanted to meet the wizard and was waiting for that moment all night. "You can worry about your other guests for now. We can cheer him up." Nick was oblivious to his true ambitions and nodded his head.

"Yes,  that might be a good idea. However I must warn you, he is scared of dungeons. I don't know how long he i willing to stay down here. Try not to scare him off. I don't want this night to end in complete disaster for him," the ghost warned just as another apparition called his attention. He quickly pointed across the way towards the opposite wall. "That's Paracelsus right over there."

The three Gyrffindors turned to look through the hazy cloud of ghostly figures just to see their alchemy professor standing across the room taking a sip of a canteen. He looked rather anxious, like he wasn't enjoying himself at all, but then who would with the music they had. The three of them looked at each other and then back at Nick.

"Professor Elric?" Harry questioned in absolute disbelief. Nick looked down at him and shrugged.

"Had me fooled all of these years. He was apparently going by his father's name when we went to school together. Never knew his name was Edward until recently. Still can't get the hang of calling him that. You would try and cheer him up though, would you? He's already so miserable being in the castle. I thought this might have enlightened his spirits, but I assume I was wrong." With another beckon, Nicholas floated off across the room to attend to his other guests. The three gryffindors turned back towards each other.

"He must be imagining things," Ron whispered as he stole another glance towards their professor who seemed none the wiser that they were there. Hermione did the same but bit her lip in contemplation.

"Maybe he is his son? Nick did say that he used his father's name-"

"But that would still make him at least 700 years old! There is no possible way," Ron retorted. He groaned to himself as his excitement pittered to devastation. He had missed the halloween feast because of this and now Harry was feeling less sure of why he accepted Nick's invitation.

"We could at least ask him. No harm in that, right?" Harry offered, not really sure if he wanted the answer to their question.

……..

"Are you really Paracelsus?" Water sprayed the air as a sudden voice shouted behind him obnoxiously. Edward, coughed and choked as he was in the middle of taking a drink of water when that outrageous statement came out. He gasped for air, his eyes watering, and turned around to see three nosy gryffindors standing behind him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He gargled as he tried to get control of himself. They did not seem fazed by his language as he had been using it all year but were more focused on their question at hand.  He wasn't expecting any other humans to be at the deathday party, especially not those three. He felt himself grow slightly aggravated that Nick would invite children to such an event especially since he now knew that it was probably for his sake that he did so.

"We were invited," Harry answered him as was already obvious to him.

"Are you really Paracelsus- _the Paracelsus?"_ the Weasley interrogated, ignoring all formalities. Edward remembered his talk with the twins earlier in the month when they were helping him down to the classroom. He cursed to himself. They were probably up to this. How many other people knew? How many did they tell? He groaned tiredly as he massaged his face. His eyes darted very to where the Colonel was talking to a rather interested crowd of ghosts. They seemed really entranced by his bodiless armor.

"Did your brother's tell you that?" he growled, glaring at his students. "I told them to keep quiet and you would be smart to do the same." The three student's jaws dropped in both awe and shock as they stared at him, knowing for the first time that he was a legendary figure. Edward pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Yes, I am _the_ Paracelsus," he groaned as he answered their questions before they could ask it again.

"But you look so young!" Ron exclaimed which made him grit his teeth.

"And what's that supposed to mean?! I am 1016 years old! I am not fucking short!" he raged at them, holding his fist dangerously close to the Weasley's face. The gryffindors quickly took a few steps back to get away from his wrath. He wanted to strangle all of them just so that they would keep their mouths shut. Maybe he could say that they fell into the slime pits in the cavern below the castle. He didn't think Severus would really mind.  However just imagining the dark vast caverns sent shivers up his spine. He could feel a trickle of fear lick his heart and he quickly clutched his shirt to keep it at bay. He couldn't freak out in the middle of Nick's party. He had spent the entire month building up his confidence to come down into the dungeons. He wouldn't be defeated because three nosy students were aggravating him.

"Professor-" the young Granger started but Edward shot her a stern look, making her think it was wiser to shut up.

"I didn't tell anyone for a reason. I don't want to be asked questions. My life isn't interesting-"

"Isn't interesting?" Harry asked a little taken back by his blatant disregard for his life. "Professor, you have lived life times. There is everything interesting about that."

"You are the oldest wizard in the world-" Ron started elaborating on what Harry meant.

"I am not a witch!" Edward snapped defensively. The fear he was trying to choke down actually took a bite of his heart. Edward felt his breath catch in his throat and he closed his eyes taking a tiny step outside of the conversation.

 _'He's a witch'_ he heard the harsh voices of his past whisper in his ear and he quickly shook his head.

"I am not witch, nor will I ever be," he hissed harshly at them. The golden glare in his eyes felt like he was throwing daggers at his own students, but he just needed to fend them off. He couldn't talk about this, down in the dungeons of all places. The gryffindors looked confused and unfortunately closed the gap he had opened up for himself.

"Professor, of course you are a wizard. You invented alchemy-" Hermione herself tried to reason. Edward had always thought her the most sensible person there, yet she wasn't sensitive.

"I didn't invent alchemy. I just simply brought it here," he admitted. "I don't care what anyone says. Because I can do magic, because I can do alchemy does not make me a wizard. I don't ever want to be called that again. Just leave me alone." He turned to go get Mustang from the crowd but before he could leave he felt a hand suddenly grab his wrist. For an instant he felt a cold metal shackle wrap its way around his skin where the fingers gripped his wrist. He gasped as he quickly pulled his hand away like it had been burned. His eyes were wide as he gripped his own wrist trying to rub the metal feeling away however with his own automail hand he just made the ghost touch worse.

"Professor, we want to know-" Harry started but Edward spun around and yelled at them.

"I don't give a damn what you want to know! My life has held more horrors than you could even begin to imagine so I apologise for not sharing them with the likes of you!”  he shouted. "Do you want to hear about what it feels like to have to run a sword through a man's stomach in the heat of battle? Do you want to hear about the lovely adventure of watching all of your friends age before your face? Or do you want to think about the ugly truth that no matter what happens to me I will never _ever_ die?" He seethed, the fire that ignited in his lungs billowing out in pillars of black smoke as he scolded his students for somethings that they couldn't possibly know about. Their eyes were wide with fright as they heard him glaze over the horrors of his life that kept him awake at night. He wanted to yell at them again to leave him alone but he could feel the chains grow heavy around his limbs as he continued to try and rub the feeling from his wrists. The potion he had taken earlier was wearing off and now he could feel his mind spiraling back into the abyss that he was standing in. _It is not the same. It is not the same._ He tried to repeat it to himself but with the pressure from the students and now staring ghosts at the party it was becoming harder and harder to accept that mantra. As they didn't respond to his outburst he gave a weak harsh laugh at them. "That's what I thought."

"Professor," Granger started, "we didn't mean to upset you-"

"That's a first," he muttered under his breath, intentionally just loud for them to hear.

"We just thought that meeting Paracelsus would help us in Alchemy class. He- well you, was supposed to be the wizard who-" Hermione started but her sentences started to blurr and string into nothing as Edward closed his eyes, trying to fight where his mind wanted to take him.

_He's a witch! He's a witch! Burn him! It's the only way-_

Edward's hands gripped his head as he tried to bat the voices away. He couldn't listen to them. He had to keep control. But his grip was quickly fading into nothing. The taunting laughs filled his ears where his student's voices should have been and the chains felt like they weighed a ton as they clamped around his limbs, trapping him in the dungeon. He felt a sudden mass of metal clamp around his shoulder and he yelped, spinning around and doing the best he could to fend them off. His automail arm clashed heavily with the suit of armor standing behind him and the hollow ring reverberated across the room. His eyes widened as he stared up into the empty face of his commanding officer. The suit held no emotions and yet Edward could picture the concerned black eyes of the Colonel looking down at him.

"Edward," he said calmly, trying to help him get a grip on himself. "Go upstairs. I think you have been down here long enough for tonight." Edward just stared at him for a few minutes as he processed what he was telling him however with another urge from his friend he found his feet stumbling away from the crowd that was forming around them. He caught the worried look on his students' faces but shook them away as he quickly made his way towards the door.

" _Edward are you going to be alright?"_ Winry' voice asked him as his feet nearly tripped on the stairs he was frantically racing up. He shook his head, not able to really voice an answer. How was he supposed to face people knowing his past when he couldn't even face it himself?

……

Roy glared down at the three students before him. He felt a flame of anger ignite in him as he had just sent his subordinate back upstairs to get out of the dungeons. He was doing so well. He had worked the entire month just to come down here for his friend's sake and now three silly gryffindors had to ruin it by pushing him back to remembering his past in the worst of places. Edward just wasn't ready for it and now they had gone too far.

"What were you thinking?" he gritted as he stared the three of them down. The looked up at him, confused at what had just occurred with their Professor. "I am sure Sir Porpington had informed you that Elric was afraid of dungeons-"

"We were just-"

"Edward already was in such high tension being down here, now you had to push him relentlessly on a subject he can't even think about on a normal day. I know he told you he didn't want to talk about it and yet you kept pushing him. What gives you the right to know about what we have been through?" he scolded them. There was no answer as the Gryffindors decided to stare at the floor instead of him. Roy groaned to himself as he rested his helmet in the palm of his hands. He couldn't feel it, but the action was familiar enough to allow him some comfort to clear his head. There was suddenly low rumbles as the students grabbed their stomachs and Roy realised that they hadn't anything to eat. They were missing the feast being down there and obviously didn't know that there wasn't any edible food. He sighed as he reached up and unclipped the straps holding his chest plate on. He hated having to help the brats after what they did, but he couldn't let them go hungry. Afterall, being late for the feast would have surely gotten them in trouble. He opened up his chest cavity and pulled out the couple sandwiches that Edward had packed incase they got hungry. It wasn't a lot but it was enough to hold the students over for the evening. He handed it to them. They took it hesitantly.

"News is going to spread about who Edward really is and undoubtedly other students will grow as curious as you. However I would advise you if you weren't to push him too far too fast. He will open up in time… at least I can hope," he told them softly. "There is a lot about him you don't know."

"That's an understatement," he heard the redhead mumble but Hermione seemed to set him in his place with a jab to the ribs.

"Do you know him well?" the prophecy child asked. Roy would have smirked if he could, but he couldn't, not in that body.

"Better than anyone here."

……..

Edward sucked in a huge breath as he rubbed his red eyes roughly with the palm of his hands. After getting out of the dungeons and regaining some of his mind back from the hysteria he was lost in, he took to walking aimlessly down the hallways of the castle. His nerves felt numb and on fire at the same time and he didn't know what to do with himself. He just pictured that maybe if he kept walking he would figure it out. He didn't care where he going just so he was away, far away from the dungeons as he could possibly be.

Frustration and despair felt like they were battling each other inside of him as he tried to sort himself out. Had those stupid Gryffindors not been there maybe he would have been fine. Maybe he wouldn't have caused a scene at his friend's largest party in his death time. He growled to himself as he gripped his hair in anguish. Why did those kids have to figure out who he was? All of the faculty knew who he was but they knew not to mess with him. In fact, they were pretty intimidated by him. But students? They were too nosy for their own good. They were sure to barge in where they didn't belong and worse, spread the word. There would be no escape. None at all.

Another chill ran up his back and he felt his feet pick up a little bit as he walked. He couldn't stay there any longer. He could still feel the illusion of shackles around his wrists from being in the dungeons so long that night. He shouldn't have gone.

" _Edward, you are safe. You aren't down there-"_

"I know!" he exclaimed at Winry as he moved through the hallway. "I just have to get out of here. I can't stay here any longer-"

" _But Brother you can't-"_ Alphonse started but Edward interrupted him.

"I know, I know, I KNOW!" Edward raged, picking up his speed. "I know I can't leave, I know I am safe. I know, I know! It still doesn't make a fucking difference! I can't get away from it!"

" _You need to face it-"_

"Obviously _that_ is working terrifically!" he growled sarcastically.

" _Talk about it, I mean,"_ Winry explained. " _Edward you know what they say about keeping everything bottled up, it's like carrying a weight for too long.Try talking to someone-"_

"No."

" _Why don't you want to talk to anyone? You know as well as we do that there is someone out there willing to listen,"_ Winry scolded him. Edward glared down at the floor where his feet were storming across the stone. " _You came so far already. You started to open up to the faculty. You went down into the dungeons for pete's sake. You weren't ever able to do that before-"_

"And I don't think I will be able to do it again because of that stupid prophecy kid!" Edward retorted. "I don't want to talk to anyone because they don't know when to stop. They just push and push and push. Remembering _that_ down _there?_ I don't ever want to go down again."

" _Those were the students, Brother, they were just excited,"_ Alphonse reasoned.

"Didn't stop them from prying-"

" _Try talking to someone your age-"_

"Okay, I will be sure to check the obituary-"

" _That could be a start,"_ Alphonse noted like he was actually considering it. " _Brother, Sir Porpington is dead, but you know him. You are friends. If anyone will understand it would be him-"_

"Sir Porpington?" Edward repeated as he felt his footsteps slow down their pace to a brisk walk. He had talked to Nick a lot since he realized he was in the castle but never about himself in particular. He had told Nick about the stone but it was obvious he didn't know the full effects of it yet or exactly how Edward had come into possession of it. He was the only person on this side of the Gate that Edward was really close to still. Aside from Professor Ravenclaw, Nick was the only friend he actually made there. Edward played with the thought a bit but shook his head. Though he was close to Nick, he still didn't know about everything he went through. He didn't even know where to start to even try to make him understand. Edward dismissed the thought and pushed on in his walk, not liking how he had stood still for such a short period of time. He needed to keep moving to unwind.

The castle was quiet as everyone who would have normally been out and around would have been at the feast. Edward was by himself in the hallway, knowing that no one would disturb him on his walk. That, he was grateful for. After a good few minutes of walking to nowhere in particular he found that he had calmed down a little bit. He slipped his hands into his pockets underneath his cloak and sighed tiredly. He was just thinking about heading to bed when he heard a low soft whisper from down the corridor. He felt his feet stop in his tracks as he heard it.. Edward didn't think anyone else was out. He took a few steps forwards just to realise that it was coming right for him. It growing louder and more violent. It was blood thirsty.

" _Erressto ska…..Erressto ska ske iass shishkeas!"_ he heard the haunting voice scream as it soared right past him like an invisible spectre. Edward turned around, his heart frozen in fear as he heard the voice start to retreat down the passageway. His feet on the other hand had a different idea. Edward chased after it remembering the horrible voice from before. It sounded like it wanted to kill and Edward didn't want to see the day when its dreams came true. He kept his eyes glued outside on the windows as he tried to search for any sign of the monster. It couldn't fit in the building, he couldn't see it. The only possible way was for it to be outside, but there still wasn't anything Edward could see at that point. It was just not there. In his determination to find the creature, he wasn't looking where he was going and tripped over something on the floor. A small bucket was kicked over by his clumsy boot and sent him to the ground. He landed prone right down into the spray of its contents. He cursed to himself as he pushed himself up, his body aching from the fall. He looked down at his mismatched hands to see them resting in a puddle of deep red. He brought them up closer to inspect them and he felt a gust of wind wipe out all of the hope in his body. It was blood. He let out a little shriek and stumbled up back from the puddle he was laying in. His eyes were wide as he stared at the horrific mess on the floor which now also coated his clothes.

" _Oh my god,"_ he heard Alphonse gasp from inside him. There were muffled shrieks of the people in the stone as they figured out what was going on outside of their own confinement. Edward yelped as he covered his ears in pain, hearing their voices overwhelm him. The fear that built up inside of the stone only added to his own.

"Shut up," he bit, gritting the words through his teeth. The chaos inside of him was understandable but even prevented him from thinking straight. The voices forced themselves to quiet down. Blood, where did it come from? Edward felt his mouth run dry as he begged to god it wasn't a student, that no one was hurt, but with that much there had to be something. Where was the serpent? What was this monster hunting? His heart was beating hard in his chest as he thought of all the endless possibilities. In his fall he had lost the sound of the voice and then lost his trail. If he didn't hurry he didn't know if he would find exactly where the voice or the blood came from.

 Edward, desperate to find the voice, picked himself up and jogged around the corner of the corridor. He didn't get far around the corner when his feet came to a halt. The entire floor was flooded with a good inch of water which was spewing out of the girls bathroom. Edward grimaced as he sloshed through it, watching the ripples in the water turn to waves as he waded through the mess. How did this happen? Nearly slipping on the wet floors, Edward looked down to catch his balance and suddenly froze in his place as his eye caught a horrifying reflection in the water. Words appeared to be floating on the water's surface but it was written on the wall in terrifying letters that were still red with fresh blood.

_"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware."_

Edward's jaw dropped with a gasp as his own blood turned to ice. Hanging off of a post on the wall was the caretaker's cat Mrs. Norris. She was as stiff as a board like her whole body had been frozen where it stood. She hung by her tail, tortured and humiliated. Voices rose again inside him as the souls of the stone tried to figure out what was going on. He could hear the fear and confusion in them but couldn't comprehend them as his own mind was too transfixed on the sight before him. The only thing that tore him from his trance was a scream that came from the three Gryffindors he was trying desperately to get away from that evening.

"Look!" Hermione exclaimed as she ran towards the mess. Her eyes were wide in her own shock as she gazed upon the writing. "Professor, what happened-"

"You're covered in blood!" Ron pointed as he grabbed Hermione by the hand and pulled her back. Her eyes fluttered down to his clothes which were coated in a thick layer of blood. It drenched him to his skin and he wanted anything in the world to get it off of him. It felt like he was drowning in it.

"Professor, what happened? What did you do?" Harry asked him, concern flying through him.

"Why are you following me?" Edward growled out, his frustration and fear growing into anger in his voice. The mix of emotions inside of him swirled together in a chaotic mess and he couldn't sort them out. The students being there only made the matter worse. "Why aren't you with anyone. You shouldn't be out in the corridor alone-"

"We wanted to make sure you were okay, professor but-"

"What did you do?" Ron accused, cutting Hermione off as he . "Professor, you are covered in blood! What did you do?!" Sudden voices rose in the corridor as students were coming down the hallway to return to their dormitories for the evening. Edward felt his heart start to pick up its pace again and he turned his head away from the students back to the wall.

"You shouldn't be here. Don't let them catch you," Edward warned them as he sloshed over to the wall and reached up with his hands to untie the cat from its post. It came down in his arms like a bag of rocks and he caught it clumsily just as the first few students were rounding the corner.

"Professor-" Harry started, not giving heed to his advice and staying there in the mess of the matter. But he couldn't finish his statement as he was interrupted by a loud screeching from the now growing crowd.

"Mrs. Norris! My cat! What have you done with my cat?!" Argus Filch the caretaker of Hogwarts screamed as he shoved his way through the crowd and ripped his poor cat statue out of Edward's arms. His hands were shaking as he looked over in pure horror the remains of Mrs. Norris. "You killed her! You murderer!"

"I didn't kill her! I didn't touch your damned cat!" Edward retorted but the man's grimy hand wrapped around the collar of his cloak and roughly pulled him close.

"I'll kill you. I will bloody kill you for what you have done!" the man raged, keeping a tight hold of his cat as if he never wanted to let her go. Edward tried shoving the man off of him but only succeeded when a dreaded voice erupted out of the parting crowd.

"Argus stand aside," Dumbledore ordered as he broke through the students.

"But-"

"Argus," the man said more sternly. The hand released Edward's robes and he was lowered to the ground. The caretaker gave him a murderous stare as he backed away, letting the headmaster get a head in the situation. Dumbledore stepped towards him and Edward felt his muscles flare in aggravation as the beady eyes of the headmaster studied him. They judged him silently and Edward knew that the jury was not on his side.

"I didn't do it," he said coolly, the frustration, fear, and anger being swallowed in that sentence.

"Sir, should we send for the ministry of magic to look this over?" Edward heard Severus asked as he along with the heads of the houses stood almost frozen staring at the scene, each of which were more shocked than the first. "I do believe that even Azkaban is capable of holding the great Paracelsus." Edward felt like a knife was driven in his back as the potions master said that. He wasn't on best of terms with any of the faculty but for them to accuse him of dark magic so easily was almost unbearable. However, he was covered in blood.

"I didn't do it! I didn't kill Mrs. Norris. I don't even know what the chamber thing is!" Edward defended as he took a step back when he saw Snape reach into his robes to pull out his wand. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the other teachers following his lead. Edward had hope that if one person was on his side it would have been Minerva but after a second's thought she followed suit. Whispering rose in the corridor as the students gasped at the sight before them. Edward felt himself take another step back. "Come on! You have to believe me that I didn't kill her-"

"I do," Albus said. Edward felt the chains over him lighten ever so lightly as there was hope of understanding, but his face still showed no amusement. "Mrs. Norris isn't dead. She is petrified. That can only be performed with dark magic."

"Then it must have been them! They did it! They did it! They know I'm a… I'm a squib!" Filch raged as he jabbed a grimy finger towards the three Gryffindor students who had been caught with him in the corridor. The three of them backed away defensively from the man.

"No, Argus, this type of magic is beyond second year comprehension," Albus stated, seemingly just as annoyed with the caretaker as Edward was. "However, it isn't beyond the great Paracelsus," he stated flatly.

"Stop calling me that! Alchemy isn't magic!" Edward retorted. "It isn't even dark at that! I am not a wizard. I couldn't have done this-"

"You possess the philosopher's stone and are able to give conscious life to objects. By our books you could do anything," Dumbledore told him. "I believe this conversation is more well suited in my office. If you would follow me-"

"I bloody damn well know where your office is, you bastard!" Edward raged at him. "I know this looks bad but you of all people should know I didn't do this. We need to find who did before-"

"That is what we are doing. Now if you won't follow me you will find yourself in my office not of your own doing." Edward glared at the man with a burning fire. He wanted so badly to punch some sense into the man. He felt an itch to roll up his sleeves to begin a well needed brawl. After everything he had put him through that year, he now accuses him of murder at best. How far was the headmaster going to push him? There was only so much he was willing to handle. Edward saw the wizards’ grips on their wands tighten. His own muscles were tense and ready for action but he froze when he caught sight of the students watching with wide frightened eyes in the background. The three gryffindors that found him were especially confused as to the whole mess. As much as Edward wanted to teach the wizards a lesson, he knew the mess that his battles usually made. He couldn't fight when the students were in the way. They had nothing to do with this. Edward closed his eyes and forced his body to relax with a deep breath in and out.

"Fine," he hissed through his teeth. "I need to find the Colonel-"

"Filch, would you go find Master Elric's friend?" Dumbledore asked the caretaker who looked like he wanted to do anything but. The man growled, a horrible noise that sounded like Mrs. Norris was rising from the dead, and hobbled through the crowd of students to find the Colonel. Dumbledore gave further orders for the prefects to escort their houses back to their dormitories for the evening as Edward felt a harsh jab in the back from someone's wand. He turned to see Severus standing behind him with a smug grimace on his face.

"I bet you are loving this," Edward grumbled under his breath as he too marched through the crowd of students towards the headmaster's office. They all stared at him in a horrified awe as he passed.

"If it means we finally get answers to that stone of yours, yes," the man said simply. "It has nothing to do with you personally. A power like that shouldn't be kept in one man." Edward sighed as his statement was completely agreeable. Not one man should have the stone, but unfortunately he didn't have a choice. He could understand that the faculty were probably scared of him and with him being caught in the middle of a mess like that? It really didn't look good. Edward wished that the faculty would have listened to him though. For all they knew the students could be in danger. A message written in blood, odd voices? Edward didn't know what was going on and he was scared to find out. However, now he was just very nervous for what Albus was obviously planning. He could tell in his eyes that the man knew he didn't do it. He was planning something and Edward would be damned if he got caught on the wrong side again.

…...


	12. The Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sides are chosen as Edward is accused of terrorizing the school.

**_Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage_ **

Chapter 12

The Mask

 

Edward crossed his arms as he stood across from Dumbledore's desk, his best scowl on his face. The clock was ticking late into the night and all of the wizards that stood in the room were looking at him expectantly like he was just going to confess to everything and call it a night. Their wands were still out and cocked but they looked like they weren't going to use them. It was all for practicality.

"You know I didn't do it," Edward huffed as time started to wear on him. The headmaster narrowed his eyes at him as they started their stand off.

"Why were you in the corridor and not at the feast?" he questioned him and Edward rolled his eyes in annoyance to the man's repetitive questions.

"I was at Nick's Deathday party and… well, I couldn't stay in the dungeons so I left for a few moments. Is it a crime to walk in the corridors?" Edward retorted, raising his eyebrow accusingly at him. The headmaster didn't seem at all convinced by his story even though it was the truth. Edward let out a hot breath of air as he realised that he would need to elaborate in hopes of him accepting the story. "Nick invited me to his party, I went but in the middle those three blasted Gryffindors came and I ended up having to step out cause of….. They were there, as well as Nick and Mustang. They knew what happened," he grumbled, turning his gaze to the floor in shame.

"Yes, I believe that that many people would be able to hold your story. I do understand that the three students weren't at the feast either. And as Severus has informed me you do seem to have a fear of dungeons. However, there was still enough time for you to vandalize the castle and petrify-"

"I didn't do it!" Edward snapped at him, not letting him finish his accusation.

"Should we try the veritaserum?" Severus suggested next to him and Edward looked at the potions master in disbelief. He bared his teeth at him, ready to give the fickle man a piece of his mind but the headmaster raised his hand to silence the argument. The room was held in a quiet trance as the headmaster continued to study him.

"What do you know of the Chamber of Secrets?" the man asked him after a short pause. It seemed like he was genuinely inquiring.

"Nothing."

"So a person who learned under the founders of Hogwarts had no idea that he was building a legend in the castle?" Dumbledore challenged lightly. Edward looked at him like he had kumquats growing from his ears.

"Albus, they are legends at best. None of this is based on fact," Minerva tried reasoning.

"It could be a student heard of it and-" Sprout started to think.

"But the cat was petrified, a student couldn't have done that," Flitwick stated. "I would hate to say it was Mr. Elric, but he is the only one in the castle really capable of doing something like this."

"We can't go accusing him. We need evidence!" Minerva retorted.

"The facts, Minerva, lay within Paracelsus here," the headmaster said calmly as he waited for Edward to reply. That didn't take long.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Edward exclaimed. "The only thing I know about this is that someone wrote it on the walls and now I am standing here accused of petrifying a dumb cat! I will have you know that Alphonse was with me the entire time and if he saw me even try and hurt a cat he would kick me to Drachma and back without hesitation. I didn't do it!"

"Drachma?" Edward heard Pomona whisper to herself under her breath as she was confused from his list of nonexistent places. If only they knew. The headmaster ignored her confusion and continued his interrogation.

"Paracelsus," the man said after a long pause, "the Chamber of Secrets is a legend that stretches back to when the school was founded. You know Slytherin had a distaste of muggles, correct?"

"Yes," he confirmed something that he had to learn the hard way. "I got on the wrong end of that argument many times."

"To prevent the inclusion of muggle born students in the school it was said that Slytherin hid a monster within the walls of the castle in a room known as the Chamber of Secrets. Upon releasing the creature, which could only be done by the worthy heir of Slytherin, the school would be purged of its impure inhabitants and Slytherin would get the school he had dreamed of-"

"That's absurd. If there was a giant monster in the castle, why hasn't anyone found it? I obviously wouldn't be too keen if I saw a giant four headed godzilla walking around the corridor!" Edward shouted as he waved his hand in the air at the ludicrous idea.

"Which is why it is surely a legend!" Minerva interrupted in agreement. But the headmaster's eyes didn't address her. They were locked on Edward the entire time as if there was some underlying fact Edward was missing.

"You think I am the heir? That is bull shit! Do you _know_ what he did to me? He tried stealing the stone from me. He gave me back to King Arthur to be used in the Crusades like a weapon! Why the fuck would I be the heir of that bastard?"

"You came to me earlier in the year saying that you heard a snake in the castle-"

"Yes and guess who didn't believe me?! I heard it again tonight if that just makes things worse," Edward retorted but shocked gasps raised amongst the faculty. Edward raised his eyebrow as he glanced at the wizards around him curiously.

"Parseltongue is hereditary with only a few occurrences happening outside the family of Slytherin. You were fairly close to Slytherin. I doubt he would try to unlock the inherited potential of parseltongue if he wasn't sure," Dumbledore said stiffly. Whispers rose and the frightened words licked the anxiety that was filling him.

"So you are a parselmouth," Flitwick accused.

"N-no! I mean… I can hear them I don't know what they are saying. I can't speak it-" Edward started to defend himself but the aroused wizards wouldn't listen to him. Whispers of how Edward was the descendant or relative of the old founder ignited and he felt the accusations pressing in on him. "I can't be the heir it is physically impossible!" Edward stumbled as he tried to make the wizards hear him. "I am not related to anyone."

"You have a brother," Severus sniped quickly pushing down his retort. "Surely a mother and a father are not out of the question-"

"It's complicated," he growled at the man.

"Then explain-"

"I can't. Even if I did you wouldn't believe me."

"Paracelsus, receiving an odd answer is better than none. We need to know," Dumbledore pushed. "With the events that have arisen within the walls of the school we must assume that you are somehow involved. Even though it is a legend, so are you. You have a power that no one in the wizarding world can fully understand and on top of this you have the ancient philosopher's stone. Whether intentional or not you pose a great threat to this school. I have let you run free around the castle without taking precaution against the stone. With what has happened this evening I am forced to have to control it before anyone gets hurt-"

"Free? You call this free? I cannot leave the walls of the castle because you trapped me here! If you were afraid for the safety of the castle you should just let me go! The stone is safe with me-" Edward yelled at him.

"And yet you managed to have it stolen from you," Severus muttered. Edward sent the man a heated glare.

"You don't know half of the story," he breathed at him, feeling ready to punch the wizard's face in.

"We need you here-" Dumbledore started but he didn’t get close to finishing.

"To do WHAT!? You need me for what? The only thing you have done since I came here was intrude on my personal life and accuse me of murder!" Edward raged at the headmaster, jabbing a finger accusingly at him. "You need me and then you try to cage me like a fucking animal. Why don't you just lock me in a broom closet and wait till you need me besides all of this backwards talk, huh? I am not a fucking toy for you to mess with!"

"That was our last option," Dumbledore said not even denying that he was thinking about it. Edward frowned as he scowled at the headmaster who was trying to one up him even then.

"Why am I here? I am sure the rest of your faculty would love to know as much as I," Edward hissed. The headmaster seemed less than phased as an invisible smirk played on his face. Edward felt his muscles tense as Dumbledore stood up and opened a drawer on his desk. A rag wrapped package was lifted out of it and set gently on top of the desk. It was wrapped in a dusty old cloth that someone seemed to have grabbed off of the ground for the sole purpose of covering something up. It was something someone wanted to keep hidden. He felt a growing pit in his stomach as the anger poured in in hopes of drowning his fear. It was as if a dark aura radiated off it and for some reason Edward didn’t want the man to uncover it. Yet he needed to know. He needed to know what the man was planning, even if it wasn’t that good. The headmaster looked at him tentatively as he reached to undo the cloth. The instant he did Edward wished he hadn’t. The hollow eyes of his nightmares gazed back at him, the twisted iron of the tortured face screeched in horror as Edward stared at it. He found himself sinking into the pit of his fears, anger being swept behind him with a gust of wind. He was simply drowning. The air in his chest felt heavy and every muscle in his body seemed to freeze as if winter had come at last.

Albus picked up the mask and Edward found himself wanting to run out of the room but his feet were stuck to the stone floors. Absolute fear had taken over him. He could hear his friends in the stone calling out to him, begging him to calm down or do something but their voices were a blur, drowned out in the ocean of panic that filled him. Some of the other faculty were looking at each other, rather confused as to what it was.

“The masks of infamy have been commonly known for a while and yet this one is peculiar to me,” Albus said calmly as he rounded the corner of the desk. Edward found himself taking a staggering step back but his legs felt like they were filled with lead and it was painstakingly slow. “For something so simple to be able to contain so much raw power… well, it is very peculiar indeed. And I think it might come in much use to us in the future.”

“Y-you can’t… you…. B-bastard,” Edward hissed shakily as he forced his mouth to attempt to voice his shattered words. He had so much he wanted to say and yet he couldn’t seem to form sentences as he stared at the horrifyingly gaped mouth of the mask. How much stuff, poisons, food, unmentionable thing did he have shoved down that thing when he was entrapped in it? How much time did he spend trapped in his own body, alone behind a mask? How many people couldn’t tell he was human all because of that bloody iron cage strapped to his head? Edward found his hands shoot up to his face as if he was going to try and rip the blasted thing off of him, even though he knew for a fact it wasn’t on him. Instead that thing was held in the hands of a man Edward wanted to consider to be his enemy but didn’t have the heart to until that evening. Albus gave a small smirk as he knew he had found the one thing the Eastern Sage couldn’t fight. He went to take another step closer and Edward reeled back like he was holding poison.

“Why do you have it?!” Edward scolded. “Why do you have that…. Ungodly object here?”

“As a precaution,” Albus said simply.

“I locked it away! No one knew where it was. I locked it away so no one could use it… God damn it Albus, why you crazy old bat, why can’t you just leave me alone?!” Edward begged as he saw the man take another step closer. He felt his back hit Severus who was standing behind him like a wall. Edward's eyes widened, unable to look away from the iron entrapment. He felt his heart freeze over and he couldn't seem to move. He was stuck.

"Albus, I don't think this is necessary!" Minerva stumbled as she looked back and forth between Edward and the mask. "As I believe Mr. Elric stated before, he agreed to help us. Though there is much we don't know about him, I think it is assumed that he is not a criminal!" She took a step forward to try and break up the tension but Severus held out his arm to stop her. Dumbledore was inching ever closer to Edward and he could almost feel the ghost of the cold metal wrapping itself around his face and sending him back to those years of darkness.

"We need you here, Paracelsus, not only for our students’ benefits or the stone’s, but yours. I know that if I simply tell you, you wouldn’t accept it as you are not one to delve into future magics. What we do now might be hard, but I promise it will all work out for you in the end of the semester. There is an opportunity for you to go home. That is, if you are on the right side. What happened in the corridor is concerning. All we need, Paracelsus, is an explanation," the headmaster said softly. Edward felt his breath catch in his throat as the headmaster attempted to take one more step near him. He didn't know where to go as his back was pressed as far as it could go into the wall that was Severus behind him. An icy cold filled his blood and his body became a statue of stone, unable to move. His eyes were locked on the cold metal mask which for ages has haunted his nightmares and dreams. The man was speaking about something odd but none of it reached Edward's ears as the mask was near inches from him. However, suddenly, it was gone.

Minerva stood firmly between him and the mask, holding her wand up to prevent it from coming any closer. She looked upset and slightly betrayed as she stood between him and the headmaster who she had trusted for a very long time.

“Albus, I do not know what this mask does, but with how much Mr. Elric fears it I don’t like it one bit. I agree with you that we do need an explanation from Mr. Elric as to what is going on but I do not agree with torturing him!” she scolded the headmaster, who looked slightly shocked at her standoff.

“Stand aside, Minerva,” Severus growled at her.

“I will not, Severus!” she haughtily replied. However, it didn’t matter what she said as the potions master tried to push her to the side. The woman took one step before she brought her wand around and braced it underneath the potion master’s chin, right at his throat. Unfortunately, her motion to keep Severus in check, exposed Edward to Albus. Edward’s eyes widened as he caught sight of the mask once more, now that it was closer than ever. He could see the intricate runes on the inside that kept him trapped there alone for the longest time.

“We just want to get some answers to help you-“ Albus started but something had snapped in Edward. His crippling fear had broken into a burning rage that boiled inside of him as he saw the headmaster with the mask. It was another wizard, another person willing to silence him. He would be damned if he let it happen again. Confusion turned into conviction and fear turned into action.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone!” he yelled at the headmaster. The man attempted to take another step towards him, but Edward already found himself colliding his hands together into a clap. With the sizzle of alchemic energy, the blade of his automail extended and he slashed out towards the old man. The mask clattered to the ground as the headmaster pulled back his lightly cut hands. Shocked gasps and cries rang out from the wizards around the room and Edward heard incantations start to leave their lips. He ducked down to the ground as the spells flew towards him and snagged the mask from where it laid as he tumbled. The cool metal sent shivers up his spine. The raw negative power that irradiated from it nearly made him drop it.

 _“Edward! Take it! Take it!”_ he heard his brother cry and his grip instantly tightened around the metal. Alphonse was right. There was no way in hell he was letting the wizards get it once more.

As he was regaining his balance, he saw the tips of the wizard’s wands light up for another spell. Minerva was standing between him and Severus with a shield charm casted to block whatever the potion’s professor was going to send his way. Edward clapped his hands together and touched the ground to draw up a wall between him and where Flitwick and Pomona were standing across the room. As the stone took the hit, he brought up his metal arm and deflected the spell that Albus had sent his way. It bounced off his blade but unfortunately hit Minerva on the rebound. Ropes came out of nowhere and tethered around her to trap her where she stood. The witch fell to the ground, dropping her wand in the process.

Severus, now left unchecked, lunged towards Edward with a spell of his own. Edward danced to the side and charged at the potions master. Severus brought his arms up to block his blade but it never came. Edward instead dodged to the right and backhanded the man out of the way with the hard metal of the mask as he shot past towards the doors of the office. Spells flew past him as he sprinted towards his one escape route. He didn’t know where he was going. Even if he got out of the office he was still trapped in the castle itself, but at least he could get away from the headmaster.

Just as he reached the doors, they flew open as Filch was entering with the Colonel in tow. Edward instantly dropped to the floor and slid between the squib’s and the Colonel’s legs into the staircase. The armor didn’t even hesitate as he brought up his fingers and snapped. Fire exploded behind him as Edward felt a rough leather glove grab him by his cloak and haul him to his feet.

“I leave you for ten minutes and you blow up the fucking place, Fullmetal!” he heard Roy scold him as they sprinted down the staircase. Edward could hear the many angered cries of the wizards behind him as they began to file down the stairwell after them. “What the hell-“

“Take this!” he shouted. The Colonel fumbled to catch the mask of infamy as Edward threw it at him. It took only one glance at the thing for the man to catch onto what was happening. He held no comment as they sprinted down the stairwell, the situation more severe than the armored man had originally thought. Edward shook out the horrible feeling of the mask from his hands and skidded to a halt at the bottom of the stairwell. He clapped his hands together and slammed them to the ground as he saw the wizards start to reach the entranceway. The walls of the corridor quickly swallowed up the entrance of the stairwell and trapped them all inside of the office. Silence consumed the hallway where there once was angered cries of spells and chaos. Edward stood up slowly, watching the wall as if he was afraid it would give out at any moment.

“Where are we going now, Edward? We are trapped in the castle,” Roy reminded him as he tucked the mask behind him to keep it outside of Edward’s line of sight. The blonde alchemist would have been grateful for the motion had he not been planning to continue without the man.

“You mean where I am going, Colonel,” he huffed as he held out his hand. Realizing what was going on, Roy moved to stop him. However, with a twitch of his fingers, the soul that was trapped in the armor quickly flew back to Edward’s hands. The flames danced around on his finger tips and he quickly touched it back to his chest where the rest of the philosopher’s stone quickly absorbed it once more. He heard Roy yell at him from within the stone and demand to be brought out once more.

“Colonel, I can’t,” Edward scolded the man a he made his way over to the fallen suit of armor. “I can’t leave the castle. This will eventually go south. If you are outside of the stone and the mask is used….” He stopped himself from finishing the sentence as he didn’t want to think about it. As much as the Colonel was a capable fighter and could save him from the wizards, no matter what they would eventually lose. When that happened, he knew the mask would trap him once more. He already lost so much to it. He couldn’t picture losing anyone else from the stone too.

He felt the fear that he had swallowed for a short period of time come back and consume him. No matter what he did it was coming. Those blasted wizards were going to trap him again and there was nothing he could do about it. The cool metal of the mask slid over his face and Edward’s hands instantly flew up to rip it off. But of course, it was not there.

“ _Brother, we understand. It is alright. It is not on you remember? You got it away from them,”_ Alphonse reminded him. He was right. The mask was laying face down on the stone floor in front of him where the Colonel had dropped it when he got pulled back into the stone. The horrid metal glimmered in the torch light of the hallway and mocked him as his mind was playing tricks on him. Fear jarred in his stomach as he stared down at it. He felt like he was going to vomit.

Closing his eyes, Edward took his cloak off of his shoulders and wrapped it around the mask as he picked it off the ground. Just holding it made his chest tighten. As much as he wanted to leave it, he could not let the wizards grab a hold of it again.

“ _Edward, take a deep breath. Keep your head on straight and fight,”_ he heard Hohenheim order him. “ _We cannot help you in here. This is up to you.”_

“Keeping my head on straight is more help than you can even imagine,” Edward whispered as he resumed his sprint down the hallway. The wizards were bound to break out of the office at some point. He just hoped that he would be a decent way away from them at that point. Unfortunately he was not that lucky. Just as he rounded the corridor into the adjacent hallway, a loud explosion rang out through the castle.

….

“Who would petrify Mrs. Norris?” Hermione pondered as the three gryffindors paced around the common room. All of the other students were ordered into bed after the horrifying scene near the girls bathroom. However, the three second years could not sleep after what they had seen. The caretaker’s cat had been petrified and there was a blood written message across the wall at the flooded girls bathroom. If it was a Halloween joke, it wasn’t funny.

“It had to be Professor Elric. Didn’t you see him? He was covered in blood! He looked like an axe murderer!” Ron exclaimed like the answer was quite obvious. To most people, that was the answer. Professor Elric had been caught red handed at the scene, covered in the blood that had written the message. With no one else around, there wasn’t anyone else who it could have been. However, Harry felt like this was not the case. They had just seen Professor Elric a few minutes prior in the dungeons at Nick’s party. Though he surely had enough time to petrify a cat and write the message, he was not in any state to.

“I don’t think he did it, Ron. Professor Elric was scared from the dungeons. I don’t think he would have been able to do it. Remember?” Harry reminded him. They all drew silent for a short period as they remembered what had happened in the dungeons. They all felt terrible about terrifying their professor like they had. They just want to learn more about the great Paracelsus. After the professor’s friend had told them about what they did and what their professor had gone through, they left the dungeons to apologize to the man. Unfortunately, that was when they had found Professor Elric covered in blood.

“You heard what Dumbledore said!” Ron argued. “He was the only one capable of doing dark magic. He has alchemy _and the stone_!”

“Alchemy is not magic, Ron!” Hermione scolded him. “I don’t think he could have petrified Mrs. Norris with alchemy without killing her. But… the stone is another thing. Professor Elric said in the beginning of the year that the stone did not exist. I don’t think he would be telling us not to meddle with it if he didn’t know the dangers about it.”

“He could be wanting to keep it all to himself! We know he wanted it enough to barge into school in the beginning of the year. He can make suits of armor come to life! He has it and must be using it somehow!”

“I thought you were excited to see the great Paracelsus, Ron,” Hermione taunted him as she wanted to defend the professor.

“That was before he was a murderer!”

“Hey, I don’t think that Professor Elric did it, but the headmaster is already talking to him about it. Whatever happens I think they would get to the bottom of it right?” Harry offered. His two friends who were on very opposite sides of the argument nodded their heads.

“But, Harry, aren’t you a bit concerned?” Hermione said to him. “What if someone else gets petrified while they are figuring it out?”

“It would be because Professor Elric escaped or something. Think about it! He has the philosopher’s stone. I don’t care how powerful Dumbledore is, a five against one with the stone isn’t enough!” Ron retorted.

“I don’t think they are going to have to fight, Ron! They are just talking! It isn’t like its going to get physic-“

BOOM! Hermione was cut of as there was a loud explosion that shook the whole tower. Screams could be heard from both the boys and girls dormitories as they were shaken awake by the noise. The three gryffindors raced over to the closest window that faced the headmaster’s tower and looked out. Smoke was rising from the castle walls as Hermione was just proven wrong.

“See?! See?!” Ron shouted at her as Harry instantly bolted up to his room and ripped his cloak out of his trunk. All of his roommates were asking questions and running about the room in chaos. None seemed to notice he had entered and left. When he returned to the common room, Hermione and Ron instantly saw the invisibility cloak.

“Harry, don’t go out!” Hermione and Ron yelled at him at the same time.

“He has the stone! You can’t fight him!” Hermione exclaimed.

“We barely handled You Know Who without it, mate!”

“I am not going to fight the professor, I am just going to figure out what is going on,” Harry replied before he dragged the cloak over his shoulders and sprinted away from his friends. He would have taken them with him, but there was little room under the cloak. He would have to run in order to catch up to the professors and he wouldn’t have his two friends get caught incase things went south. They shouted after him but their voices were silenced as the dormitory portrait closed.

…..

Edward cursed as he sprinted down the corridor as fast as he could. He heard the wizards casting spells behind him but he would turn the corner before the hexes even left their wands. He was too far away for them to get him, but he was too close for comfort. Far too close for comfort.

Just as he rounded the bend into the Grand Staircase a hot white bolt came out of nowhere and missed his ear by inches. He tucked himself close to the wall as he sped up the stairs. Edward clapped his hands and scraped his hand against the wall. He drew silicon out of the stone and ingrained it into his gloves. As he cleared the next floor he spun around to see Severus and Flitwick enter the stair well. He snapped his fingers and a burst of fire hurdled itself towards the growing crowd of professors. Cheers of shock and fear rose up with the painting as the wizards ducked back into the safety of the corridor. The flames charred the stone work of the castle but left the wizards unharmed. It wasn’t precise like Mustang’s but the wave of fire was enough for him to clear another flight of stairs before more spells were shot at him.

He tumbled away from another bolt of light and into the seventh floor corridor. The mask in his hands almost slipped out of his grip but he held fast to it as he clapped his hands once more and sealed the entrance to the stairwell shut behind him. The stone gobbled up the wizard’s path to him and he knew that for at least a few more seconds, he was safe. He felt his legs slow from their run and soon he was leaning against the wall trying to catch his breath. He knew he was wasting time, but he didn’t know how much farther he could go.

_“Brother, you need to keep moving! What are going to do now?”_

“I don’t know, Al!” he scolded his brother. He wanted to sound authoritative, but he only sounded scared. In truth, he was terrified as it was only a matter of time until he was caught.

“ _You need to hide somewhere. It will give you more time to-“_

“Then what, Al? Then what?! They are going to find me and then…” Edward closed his eyes and ran his free hand through his hair. He couldn’t think about that now he needed to stay focused. However, that was increasingly hard when he was holding the horrifying mask in his own hand. He hadn’t touched the darn thing in over six hundred years and yet it still held a terrifying amount of power over him. He heard the people in the stone try and to keep his thoughts on track. He took a deep guided breath and shook his mind free of cob webs. He couldn’t get lost now. Edward opened his mouth to apologize to his brother for yelling but there was a sudden dulled thud coming from the other side of the wall he made. The wizards were trying to break it down.

“No,” Edward whispered as he took stumbling steps backwards before he turned to sprint out of there. However, he barely made it three steps before he was tripping over some unseen force. He collided with the ground, the mask flying from his hold and skittering across the floor. He groaned as he looked back behind him where he tripped and saw none other than Harry Potter appearing from thin air. The student was standing in the middle of the hallway with his wand pointed at him and a silken cape down by his side.

“Potter-“ he started to say as he pushed himself off of the floor.

“Professor, what did you do down in the corridor? Why are you attacking the headmaster?” the kid interrogated him without a flicker of fear in his voice. Edward now knew why the foolish prophecy kid was in Gryffindor of all houses.

“I didn’t hurt or attack anyone! It was Dumbledore that attacked me!” Edward scolded the student. He heard the chaos in the stairwell grow. Time was running out. He needed to move but Harry held his wand on him, ready to cast a spell at any moment.

“Dumbledore is a good man,” Harry defended.

“Good people can still do horrible things, Harry. You are going to find out one day that Dumbledore is not who you think he is,” Edward told him. He turned around to grab the mask from where it was thrown but a spell hit the ground near his feet.

“I can’t let you go, Professor,” the kid said, standing his ground like he though a disarming charm would do anything to stop him.

 _“He can’t hurt you, Edward. He’s a second year. Just grab the mask and go,”_ Hohenheim berated him. He wanted to follow his father’s orders but the explosions at the stairwell grew louder and louder. They were breaking through any second. Edward held out his hand towards where Harry was standing.

“Hey, move,” he ordered the kid but instead of heeding his advice, Potter stood planted. The noise got louder and the ground was trembling in the force of the spell’s wake. Edward saw dust of the stone shake and fall to the ground and he knew he only had a few more seconds left. The kid still wasn’t moving. Edward heard a couple more spells hit the wall and he knew his time was up.

 “MOVE, POTTER!” Edward yelled as he rushed towards the young wizard. Harry looked like he was about to cast a spell but he was not quick enough. Edward grabbed him by the robes and threw the kid behind him just before the wall exploded. Blasts of rubble flew towards them and Edward clapped his hands and held out his automail hand to disperse the energy. The mass of the stone was deterred away from them but one of the heavier rocks hit his automail arm. As his arm took the hit, his exposed automail blade sliced into his own shoulder. He was sent to his knee and the red sparks of the philosopher’s stone lit up around him.

Edward looked up towards the entrance way to see the Hogwarts professors file into the corridor one by one. Even McGonagall was there, having been untied from the charm, though her wand was detained by Severus. Harry, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. Edward moved to clap his hands one more time to build another wall but the never made it. Ropes shot out of thin air and instantly wrapped themselves around him. They tangled around his legs and bound his arms to his chest, making him lose his balance before he fell collapsed to the ground. He heard the people in the stone yell at him to get up and run but no matter how he wrythed on the ground, he couldn’t slip out of the binds. Panic made his heart race in his chest as he watched the headmaster quickly reclaim the mask from where it was dropped. Edward continued to fight the ropes around him, trying to move his arms, his hands, anything to get free but it wasn’t working. He should have ran. He knew it was fruitless but he should have ran when he had the chance. He cursed Harry for distracting him.

The mass of the faculty began to walk towards him as Albus carried the mask over to him. Their wands were up, but they seemed to be starting to relax as they saw him trapped there. Edward, on the other hand, became more frantic as he saw the metal thing trapped in the headmaster’s grip.

“Don’t… Stop!” he choked as Albus knelt down next to him. He tried to push himself away from the elderly man but Severus was ontop of him near instantly to hold him down. Edward bucked and kicked and yet it made no difference to the wizards.

“Master Elric, we only need you to answer our questions. The mask will come off when we know you’re not a threat,” Albus warned him though it did little to ease the horror that had encased Edward’s mind. He quickly lowered the mask and began the process of trapping him in it. Edward fought every second he had for freedom, but it was absent and never came. He felt his jaw forcefully pried open as the cool metal was pressed down over him. Tears streamed down his face as he begged and cried for it to stop. He couldn’t get stuck behind it again. He wouldn’t go back there. As the runes inside of the mask were pressed down on his face he heard the voices in the stone become faint, like their horrified yells were only whispers. He desperately tried to shake his head to get it off of him but the potion’s master held him firm.

“ _Brother!_ ,” he heard the fainted voice of his brother call to him. The fear the had built up in Edward’s chest finally exploded in a terrified scream. His voice, muffled by the mask, was released in a howl as red alchemic energy picked up around him. Albus, Severus, and the other wizards were thrown backwards as large stone hands raised out of the ground and slammed them to the wall. The force of the impact made them drop their wands where they were as the hands melded to the walls and held them in place. The ropes around Edward’s chest disintegrated and he instant sat up, bringing his hands to his face and flinging the mask off of him. The voices of the stone returned full force and consumed his mind. He clutched his head in his hands as the voices and emotions made it feel like he was going to explode. He screamed in pain and terror as tears streamed down his face. The voices died down from their own panic, but Edward’s still stayed.

 _“Edward calm down. Breathe. Breathe!”_ he heard Hohenheim order him. His breaths were overlapping each other, as his body began to shake and hyperventilate. Sobs began to wrack his chest as he dropped his head down into his hands.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he sobbed as he tried to breathe but his lungs weren’t working. He choked and sobbed as his mind swam. The sheer terror of the mask had swallowed him whole and he felt like he was going to die.

“ _Edward, it is alright. You are safe. Focus on us. Breathe in_ ,” Winry commanded him and he followed. “ _Breathe out. Good. Do it again.”_

“ _Edward, we are here. The mask was removed. You are free. You are safe. Keep breathing,”_ Roy said, continuing the soothing mantra that Winry was whispering to him. Edward followed their orders and focused on his breathing. He counted them in and he counted them out. Minutes had passed until it felt like he wasn’t going to pass out but eventually, he was breathing fine. He was alright. He was safe.

“I’m sorry. It was an accident. I was scared. I didn’t mean to use the stone,” Edward repeated himself as he quickly wiped the tears from his face. He felt like an idiot. He was afraid to lose the stone because of the mask and yet he was foolish enough to accidentally use the souls inside of it. He couldn’t get his hands together. He couldn’t free himself. Because of that, he accidentally could have killed someone.

“Wh-who was it?” Edward whispered, afraid to hear the name of the person he killed.

“ _You didn’t kill anyone. The reaction wasn’t large enough for that,”_ Hohenheim told him as if that made it any better. “ _It was Jeremiah. A friend of mine from Xerxes. He lost a few years off his life.”_

“Damnit. Damnit!” Edward cursed himself as he gripped his head between his hands.

“ _Edward it will be okay,”_ he heard his father try and to tell him.

“No it won’t! No it won’t!” Edward growled at him. Anger and frustration built up in him. Even though many people inside the stone said it was okay, and tried to reason with him, he knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t okay and he would be damned if it ever would be.

 “Look what you made me do!” he yelled at the headmaster who was still pinned to the wall. Edward pushed himself off of the ground and stumbled over to him on weak legs. “Look at what you fucking made me do! I used the fucking stone are you fucking happy? Damnit!”

“Paracelsus, calm down-“

“Calm down? Calm down?! One person almost died tonight because you wouldn’t leave me alone! He lost years off his life because I simply used the bloody stone!” he scolded them. The headmaster and the rest of the faculty looked shocked and confused. Edward scoffed at them, the anger and disappointment boiling up inside of him as he saw their sad faces.

“You are all the same, aren’t you?! Loyal to blood. Loyal to wands. And arrogant with your fucking magic. I left the wizarding world because of this, and it looks like it still hasn’t changed!” he berated them like children.

“The stone was never meant to exist. It wasn't meant be contained by alchemy or magic. It isn't an object, it is alive. I have 50,875,621 lives inside of me. Many of them people I knew, others I have gotten to know only because of the stone. Every single time the stone is used, someone pays for it! The first rule of alchemy. Equivalent fucking exchange. I realized this as a child and you wizards couldn’t figure it out after a thousand years!

“All of these manipulation games you are playing, Albus, I know you think they are for the better, but you don’t know what you are playing with! One of these days someone is going to get hurt and people are going to find out. Then no one will trust you."

Silence stretched through the hallway as no one had anything to say for themselves. They were defenseless and couldn’t hide behind their wands anymore. Edward looked down to the ground to where all of their wands were dropped. He bent over and picked one up, instantly feeling the energy held within it. He could say one word, give it one flick, and be free of the castle within the minute. But he wasn’t Dumbledore and didn’t gamble with people’s lives. Edward quickly picked the wands off the floor one by one until he had all five of the professor’s wands. He grabbed his red cloak off the floor where it was discarded and dropped the wands in the wand pocket on the inside that had long stood empty of its original host. The looks on the wizards’ faces looked like they wanted to protest, but they knew better than that. Edward clapped his hands and touched the floor, releasing the teachers from their entrapment.

“I can’t leave still. I can’t use your wands at risk of taking down the entire castle, but I sure as hell am not giving them to you.”

"Master Elric, we need to know about the chamber, about the stone-"

"I already told you, you zounderkite, that I know nothing! The idea that you even think me the heir is ludicrous! It's insulting. I am not related to anyone on the face of this goddamn lousy planet!" Edward shouted at him. "Don't you see? I am not from here! I didn't invent alchemy. I brought it here. So I think I fucking know what I am talking about when I say I am not fucking related to anyone!"

"You- You're not from here?" Minerva asked as if she heard of everything but that. Edward’s glare softened when he saw her. She was the only person amongst them to stand up for him. She fought against the headmaster when she knew it was wrong. He felt sorry for attacking her, but what was done was done. He slowly nodded his head.

"And every minute I waste in this bloody world is another minute I and everyone in the stone can't live back home,” he whispered. A solemn aura fell over the hallway but Edward pushed through it. He was, after all, very well acquainted with loss. He strode over to where the mask was discarded and stared at it. Shivers were sent up his spine as he stared into the lifeless eyeholes of the mask. He wanted to throw up but shoved down the feeling as he picked it up in his automail hand.

“I am going to my room. I would suggest you find yourselves new wands,” he huffed as he stumbled out the broken doorway and back into the staircase. The chaos of the battle had ended, but signs of the fight still remained scarred on the stone walls. Edward didn’t care to fix it as he slowly made his way down the steps. It would be washed away with a simple flick of a wand from another professor once the morning came. It would be almost like it didn’t happen. When Edward reached his landing, he looked back up the stair cases to see he gathering of wizards staring down at him. They looked very upset, but Edward couldn’t tell if it was because they had betrayed him, or because they were missing their wands. He didn’t spend time figuring it out, he just shook the ideas from his head and continued towards his own chambers. As much as he wanted to imagine life going back to how it used to be in the castle, he knew it never would. Not with the mask, not with the stone, not with the chamber of secrets.

……


	13. The Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Eastern Sage gets some late night visitors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wanted to make this longer to include the beginning of his story but.... changed my mind. So it is pretty short. Got to wait for next chapter!

**Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage**

Chapter 13

The Apology

_“Brother, you need to sleep.”_

Edward heard his brother urge him again for the tenth time that evening as he sat curled up in his desk chair in his chambers staring numbly down at the pile of wands he had tossed there. They were each different, marking the spellcaster’s own unique personalities and traits. However, he felt disappointed at how similar they all were; worn to the bone from years of over use and all had been pointed at him without a second thought. Edward wanted to be angry at the professors for attacking him. He wanted to be sad for the rift that was torn between them. But he didn’t feel a thing. A wave of indifference had overcome him as he stared down at the wands infront of him. The only thing he felt was numb. They had all attacked him. They had used the mask against him. He had the right to feel something. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t wrap his mind around what had happened, how horribly wrong that evening had went. He was supposed to have fun at a party with his old friend. Now he was the owner of five new wands and the horrible mask he had wanted to keep hidden forever.

Edward glanced down to the bottom drawer of his writing desk. The marks of a hastily made transmutation were very visible around the desk as he had locked the mask away as fast as he could. He didn’t want to see it ever again. But he felt that even the several layers of material, stone, wood, and cloth, he used to seal it away were not enough to keep it out of his mind. A shiver was sent up his spine and he quickly looked away from the drawer. He dropped his head into his hands and weaved his fingers through his hair as he grinded the palms of his hands into his forehead. He wanted all of this to go away.

 _“You need to eat.”_ He heard his brother’s nagging and he desperately wanted to reply but his mouth couldn’t seem to voice the words that his mind was spinning. He didn’t think there were any words for it at all. Instead of answering his brother, he kept his mouth glued shut with shame. He could hear the concerned voices in the stone whisper back and forth. They were rightfully worried.

“ _Brother, are you going to be alright?”_ Edward found himself shaking his head in hopes to answer his little brother. He heard his brother talk lightly amongst his friends in the stone, but the words were a blur.

 _“Do you want us to come out?”_ He heard his little brother offer. He nodded his head, keeping it down in his hands. He wanted to bring Alphonse out of the stone. He wanted someone there with him. However, he did not move to make the armor or to release his brother from the stone. He only sat there holding his head.

“ _Ed?”_ Alphonse asked again. The worry in his brother’s voice made him bend down and clap his hands. He watched himself build the armor and cast the single soul from the stone into it. The armor shook to life and Edward found himself instantly in his brother’s arms. The armor was familiar, something that had never changed since Amestris. The material might have been different, but it was the same armor with the same soul inside. Being inside of his brother’s arms, he instantly melted. Edward returned the embrace and held on like it was for dear life.

“I don’t know what is worse!” Edward muttered into the armor plating as he found the words of his fears in the safety of his brother’s arms. “The fact that I almost was sent back into hell or the fact that it was them trying to do it! I thought… I thought-“

“You thought they were your friends,” Alphonse cleared up for him. Edward scoffed at the idea even though deep down he knew it was true. However, pretending that they weren’t made the pill of betrayal easier to swallow.

“They went to my house and knowingly brought that back here. They knew. They knew all along and--,” Edward cut himself off. He closed his eyes as he felt them heat up. He had once thought that he might have been friends with the professors. However, now he didn’t know if they were being nice to him was genuine or just another cruel trick. They knew about the mask all along and didn’t tell him or warn him. They were wolves watching him run around like a lost sheep in the pasture. And he bought their disguises. He let his guard down and look where it had gotten him. Edward didn’t know who to trust.

 “At this point, I don’t think I can make friends anymore,” he mumbled. His brother didn’t say anything. Alphonse was always one to counter his negative thoughts, but he could not do that if it was true. Instead of arguing with him, his brother quickly moved him to the small couch in front of the fire place.

“Sit here. I will get you some tea.” Edward frowned as he watched his brother head off to get the kettle. With no fire in the hearth, he knew his brother would undoubtedly just clap his hands and  alchemize the water to boil. Edward looked down at his own hands. They were still covered in blood, but it had turned brown and crumbly as it had dried. He remembered stumbling over the bucket of blood that was undoubtedly used to write the eerie message on the wall of the corridor. It had seemed so long ago that he had almost forgotten about it. He wanted to be disgusted, but he didn’t feel anything. Looking at it, he clapped his hands and touched his chest. The alchemic energy coursed over his skin and clothes and instantly the dried blood shook off him into a small wad of iron. He was clean and yet he still felt no better than before.

Edward closed his eyes and brought his knees up to his chest, sinking into the soft cushions of the couch. He felt cold as the bitterness of life swirled through him. He had foolishly went against everything he learned in his thousand years in that world. He had opened up and gave the wizards enough room to strike once more. He had told himself never again, but here he was making the same old mistakes over and over.

 _“It was our fault.”_ He heard Winry say to him. Her voice was soft but held too much guilt in it. “ _We were the ones who wanted you to open up. We wanted you to be happy. You are always so lonely. I am sorry.”_

“I am used to it. It wasn’t your fault,” Edward whispered. “It was nice while it lasted.”

“ _But now-“_

“Yeah,” he muttered. The small world of happiness he experienced in his naivety was gone and the only thing left was the coldness of reality he had so willingly ignored. He should have listened to his instincts. It would have been better for everyone.

A cup of tea was lowered down in front of him and the steam blasted him in the face. Edward closed his eyes as he felt some part of him warm up in its presence. The smell of vanilla and chamomile soothed him.

“Brother, it will be okay. You still have us, remember?” Alphonse said to him as he handed him the porcelain cup which was near filled to the brim. Edward took it and thanked him. He sank down into his seat and attempted to relax. He knew he never would, especially after that night, but he could imagine. His friends inside the stone and his brother talked to him, for what seemed to be hours to try and make him feel better. He couldn’t think of anything that would. After his most recent sorrow, he felt like he could never be happy again. But betrayal had happened many times before. It hurt very badly and for a very long time but he got better. He knew it couldn’t last forever. He was upset though that it had happened at all.

 _“You will get through this. You always do,”_ he heard Winry say to him. He smiled weakly at the thought though the idea still weighed heavily on him.

“Yeah.” He would get through it. He always did. For a thousand years he has been pushing through but for once he just wanted to slow down for a few moments. However, the world didn’t seem to want to allow him that moments rest as there was a knock on his door.

……

Minerva stood outside of the hauntingly tall portrait of a rather round scholar. The man in the portrait seemed jolly with gossip as the commotion in the castle was the biggest news amongst the students, the faculty, and now even the portraits. However, Minerva didn’t appreciate the giddy smile the man was wearing as he whispered to the maiden in the portrait next to him.

“I wonder what she wants. Probably to talk to that muggle boy. Do you think there will be another fight?”

“I don’t know. It’s so hard to tell. The muggle has no paintings in his room. I can’t check.”

“I would respect it if you noisy pieces of art keep to yourselves. Maybe Mr. Elric doesn’t like the intrusion,” Minerva snapped at them. The round man glared down at her and scoffed before hobbling out of the picture while muttering something about her being a hypocrite. She wanted to argue more to the disrespectful painting, but she knew deep down that what the painting said was true. She was a hypocrite. She had pried into the Eastern Sage’s affairs. She had intruded on his house, his space, and his past, places where she did not belong and he was not willing to open to her. She watched Severus take the mask and said nothing. Now she knew better, but now it was too late.

Fighting Dumbledore was the most difficult decision of her life. The man who she had trusted for so long had asked her to hurt someone she knew did nothing wrong, or stand aside a pretend that she didn’t see anything. Minerva understood the circumstances. Someone had snuck into the castle and terrorized the students and the only person who could have possibly done it was the Eastern Sage himself. While the other professors were willing to blame Elric for the greater good of the school, she couldn’t do it and it hurt. But, what hurt more was the look of betrayal in Edward’s face as he took their wands and left the battlefield. For him, the decision was easy but they had all chosen wrong.

Minerva stood outside the chambers of the Easter Sage, building up her courage to make an apology she knew she didn’t deserve. For a Gryffindor, at that moment she did not feel brave at all. She was naked without her wand and every second that ticked by since she initially knocked on the portrait door felt like it was the beat to a death march. However, the farther she marched to her grave the more she believed that Edward would not open the door. She wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.

She reached out and knocked again just to hear shuffling from the other side. Voices she couldn’t make out got louder and suddenly she saw the door crack open an inch. It wasn’t Edward on the other side, but rather a suit of armor. Minerva had not spent too much time with any of the suits that Elric hung around with, but she could tell that it was his brother, Alphonse. She remembered the talks she and Alphonse would have whenever he was free. They would talk about the weather, his brother, her husband, and life over a cup of tea. Even though he could not drink, she would pour him a cup anyways for sentimentality. Those were the most enjoyable talks that she had in a long time. But by the way Alphonse was standing stiffly in the doorway, she knew those were the last.

“Professor McGonagall.” His voice was guarded with all of the defensiveness his brother held his first day at the school. “Are you here to apologize or get your wand back?”  he asked bitterly. The words stung but Minerva stood firm.

“Apologize, and to make sure your brother was alright, Alphonse. I am horribly sorry about what happened tonight. I tried to stop it but-“

“You could have stopped it by telling us Dumbledore had the mask. You were the one who went to our house, right? It was nice of you to get some things for us but this? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Brother, who is it?” the quiet and distant voice of Edward called out from within the chamber room. The armor turned its head back into the room to address them.

“McGonagall.” There was some padding of feet, one flesh and one metal, before the old alchemist appeared in the doorway. His hair was in disarray and his eyes were red and dark from exhaustion. Though he was cleaned up as there was not an ounce of blood left on his clothes, he looked even worse for wear than she had originally thought. Minerva opened her mouth to begin her apology but she said not a word before she found her own wand getting shoved in her face. She took a step back before she realized that Edward was handing it to her, handle first. He was returning it.

“What… why?” she stumbled, shocked that he was returning something so dangerous to her without second thought. Her hand itched to reach up and grab the handle, but she withheld from the temptation. However, it didn’t seem to be her choice. He pressed the wand into her hand until she had a grasp on it. She questioned him again but instead of giving her an answer he simply shrugged, gave a weak smile, and retreated into his chambers without a word.

“Edward,” Alphonse said, the concern in his voice unmasked and true. There was no answer. Alphonse sighed and opened the door a little farther, stepping to the side to let her in.

The room was warm though there was no fire lit. Barren walls and barely filled shelves would have looked out of place in any other teacher’s rooms but they seemed to be welcoming here. After all, there was enough mystery to the people who resided there that living a complex life of material things would have been overwhelming. It was a shadow of the Eastern Sage’s actual house, a simple bungalow made out of the earth itself. Even having building materials seemed too much for a man who had the power to own everything. Here he had the bare essentials that she had brought to him in the beginning of the semester, but even some of them still looked untouched since they had arrived.

Edward sat on the upholstered couch with his knees tucked to his chest, cradling a cup of tea. Minerva didn’t know if he actually liked the drink but he always seemed to have one when he was feeling anxious. By the looks of how he clutched it, these of course was one of those times. Minerva didn’t know what to do, whether she should sit down or stay by the door. Even though she was invited in, she didn’t feel welcomed. It wasn’t until Alphonse pulled out a cushioned chair for her did she know what to do with herself. She sat. Alphonse gathered up another cup of tea. And they waited in silence with only the clatter of tea cups to arouse them out of the eerie trance. Edward said nothing, and his brother was unwilling to urge the conversation farther. Minerva imagined in was up to her.

“Edward, honestly I didn’t know what the mask did or why Dumbledore wanted it. I went to your house to get you your things to make you more comfortable. I didn’t imagine that Dumbledore would… I didn’t think that he would-“

“You were the last person I expected to come knocking on my door,” Edward muttered, ignoring everything her apology had to say. “I thought it would be Dumbledore to attack me again or Severus.”

“I don’t know what is wrong with them, why they are so against you. Even though whatever happened in the corridor was concerning, and the fact that you are a parselmouth makes it worse, they shouldn’t have attacked you. None of us should have.”

“They don’t know what the stone is or what it does and they were scared and it was messing with their plans.”

“Their plans?” Edward looked up at her when she questioned him but then looked away as if he was ashamed that Albus was using him, or rather the fact that he was so easily used.

“Albus likes to toy with the future. He purposely put a detainment charm on the portion of the stone knowing that I would come to get it. He wanted me to get caught up in your wars and your prophecies. I had thought that I was trapped here mostly for Potter’s sake.”

“And now you don’t?” Minerva asked him and he shook his head.

“You were there. In the office Albus mentioned about sending me home though it didn’t seem he quite understood what that really meant at the time. I saw Trelawney’s paintings and I think Albus believes them, but they were horrid. I don’t want to stay around for a future like that even if it leads me home in the end. I don’t want to be another prophecy being tugged along by invisible strings. I will find my own way home.”

“And your home was… not here,” Minerva said hesitantly and Edward shook his head slowly, not even glancing up at her. She looked over to where Alphonse sat and he seemed to feel the same way. Homesick. She has seen it thousands of times with her students. Many would come from places all over Europe, let alone the entire world. However, it was easily dealt with by sending letters home, keeping memorabilia around, or taking trips back home over the holidays. In Edward’s case, these remedies were inaccessible. She wondered how long he had to live without being home to see his family or even his house. Minerva did not know how to help him, but then again she was not going to let him be alone any longer.

“I couldn’t even begin to understand what you are going through, either of you, any of you,” she said remembering the sheer number of people that the Eastern Sage had mentioned resided within him. Though it was easy enough to talk to Alphonse and Mr. Mustang when they were in the suits of armor, she didn’t know how to address any of them when they were including the stone. “If you would like to talk about it. Maybe-“ she stopped herself as it looked like Edward was about to say no but he paused. He quirked his head as if he was listening to something that Minerva couldn’t hear. He muttered a few strange words to himself in another language but then sighed and sank back into his chair.

“I suppose,” he huffed.

“Brother are you sure?” Alphonse asked him, unsure. “You haven’t told anyone else.”

“I haven’t. But maybe I should have. Though, it’s not a nice story and a very long one.” Alphonse looked like he wanted to protest but instead just relaxed. The both of them looked like a great weight was relieved from their shoulders. Edward took another sip of his tea before setting the cup off to the side. He lifted his hands to help pull the story from him as he took in a huge breath.

“Amestris was-“ he did not get far until there was another knock on the door. He stiffened. Minerva remembered the battle that had occurred earlier that night and instantly became cautious as to who was on the other side of the door. She didn’t think it would be the best time that Dumbledore payed him a visit. Alphonse stood up and cautiously walked over to the door and opened it an inch. He seemed to relax when he noticed who was on the other side.

“Brother, it’s Potter.”

“Potter?!” Minerva exclaimed as she threw herself up from the couch as Alphonse invited her student inside. The child instantly paled upon seeing her.

“Harry is one of the best Gryffindor’s I know,” Edward muttered, unfazed by the student’s arrival as he pointed to a chair for the child to sit in. Harry took it hesitantly, obviously uncomfortable sitting next to his head of house at such a late hour at night. “He heard the fight going on in the headmaster’s tower. We weren’t quiet obviously. And he came down to help though he, like Albus, was very misguided. Considering the circumstances and his actions I think I want to award him 30 points for his bravery and give him a months’ worth of detention for his stupidity.”

“But-But! Potter! You know you could have gotten seriously hurt! Why would you go running into the middle of a fight like that?! Running around the castle after hours, with your clothes in disarray and your shirt untucked!” Minerva started to panic and ramble. She couldn’t believe one of her students was so stupid as to leave the tower in the middle of the night after everything that had happened. Even if it was to help someone there were better ways of doing that than to run into the fray. Her frenzy made Alphonse chuckle a little and Minerva realized that she was making a fool of herself in front of her students and colleagues. She took in a huge breath to calm her nerves and sent a glare over to Harry who shrank beneath it.

“Make it 45 points and two months’ worth detention and I will agree,” she growled and Edward gave a tired smirk.

“Of course.”

 “What you did was extremely stupid,” Alphonse berated the young wizard. “Not just for attacking someone without full knowledge of the situation but also for attacking someone you knew was so far out of your league. A second-year student against the Eastern Sage. It took all five of your professors to pin us. We had once considered you to be a better candidate for Ravenclaw house with how you figured out the First Law of alchemy in Edward’s class but now we can see you are truly a Gryffindor at heart with both its strengths and flaws.”

“I wanted to apologise for-“

“You stopped Voldemort from reaching the stone last year, right?” Edward asked, cutting him off. The kid closed his mouth and nodded. “And you heard what I said it was made of in the corridor, correct?” He shamefully nodded his head again. The Eastern Sage drew in a large breath of air and let it out slowly. “Then you might as well stay for the story.”

“What story, Professor?” the kid asked.

“Mine.” The four of them settled down into their chairs as the Eastern Sage sorted through his long list of memories. The two wizards were both hesitant and eager to hear about the Eastern Sage’s home, but Minerva already knew it was not going to be one with a happy ending. After Edward took a small pause to regain himself, and Alphonse threw on another pot of water to provide Harry with something to drink, he began his story.

“Amestris was a beautiful and deadly country ravished in corruption and a civil war of the worse kind….”

……………


	14. The First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in 992 Edward finds himself in England

**_Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage_ **

Chapter 14

The First Day

 

Edward gasped as the air rushed back into his lungs. Screaming filled his ears as he groggily tried to sit up on the war torn battlefield of the Central Command center. His vision was cloudy and he massaged his eyes trying to get them back in order. The world was slow, bright, and too loud. He gritted his teeth as he sat himself up on his knees, trying to focus all of his energy on moving. That explosion took his energy away from him, but he couldn't stop fighting. Father was still there. If he stopped fighting people would die. The screams that filled his ears slowly grew silent. Edward wanted to relish in the relief from the loud horrifying noise but he knew that was the last thing he should be celebrating. One by one, the voices fell, amongst them Edward caught the thwump of heavy objects hitting the dirt.

Edward opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light of the afternoon sun and forced himself to look up. Limp bodies, perfectly preserved, laid scattered on the rocky ground as if everyone in the battle against the homunculi had just agreed to lay down and take a nap. Their faces were torn in agony as if death by suffocation would have been preferable. It didn't take Edward long to know that these people were just empty shells. Their souls were with Father.

Gone, everyone was gone. Edward, in his panic, turned around, trying to find anyone who was still fighting. He needed someone! But as the last scream died out Edward didn't find a single person standing with him. His eyes followed the red arching alchemical light as it ripped the soul from the little body of the Xingese girl Mai. Her body was jerking into seizures as her spirit fought to keep its soul in its correct form. But the golden haired man above her was too strong and it was torn from her to reside in the stone already in his chest.

The world was silent as everyone laid down to rest but Edward still heard the tormented voices around him screaming for help. It took him a while to realise, that the last voice was his own. He screamed out for them, all of them, begging for it to be a trick. He called for Mai, the Colonel, Hawkeye, teacher. He called for his brother even louder when he saw the empty suit of armor motionless on the ground. Its metal chest was ripped open like Father had to claw his way in to retrieve his soul. The Homunculi wanted Amestris and he was one soul away from getting it.

Bare footsteps walked towards him as Edward begged his friends to come back. He didn't know what to do. He had the vast power of alchemy at his fingertips but without them he didn't know what to do. Edward looked up to see the golden eyes of his father, no not Hoheheim, Father the homunculus clone coming for him. He looked hungry, overly eager to finish his plans once and for all. That all ended with him.

The arch of red alchemical lightning extended from the tips of Father's outstretched fingers and hit Edward square in the chest. He gasped as it felt like his throat was closing up to keep his lungs inside of himself. His soul was slowly slipping from his body, being tugged and pulled like a rope. Edward tried to pull it back with his own will power but Father's being was too strong to fight by one's self. He was falling.

Tears streamed to Edward's eyes as he knew the end was near. He couldn't die. He couldn't be alone. He just needed to do something. Do something! He screamed at his body to move but his mind was stalled to a blank. He didn't know what to do. Voices seemed to call to him. He heard them scream at him to reverse it. Reverse it! Without thinking, without even considering the right formula, he willed himself to do just that; reverse father's pull and push his soul back into his own body. He clapped his hands with his last breath and slammed them to Father's hovering chest. Reverse it! Bring his soul back. A bright burst of red light erupted out of him and Edward heard the Homunculus scream in agony. Edward's own soul flew back into his chest and he drew in a large breath of life that his body was starved. It worked. It worked! But unfortunately, it worked too well as the world around him faded to white and one by one the rest of the souls plunged into his body.

………….

Edward woke up screaming in pain. It was the only thing he could do as the rest of his body convulged in its efforts to stay alive and put together. It felt like he was being torn at the seams and sewn back together as the souls inside him screamed for a way out. Their spirits pulled at them, demanding their return, but their bodies were nowhere to be found. Edward's was their only hope. He screamed as he felt the torment inside him try to take control. He heard the pleading cries of all of the people begging to be let out, not admitting that this was the end.

_"I need to see my daughter again!"_

_"Where are we?"_

_"Help! I need to get help! Someone help me!"_

_"My body! Where is it?"_

_"Here's a body! Here is one!"_

Edward shrieked as the voices pounded the inside of his skull. He brought his hands up to his head and clenched it tightly as if he could just hold his skull together before it broke open into pieces. Tears streamed down his face and he rolled back and forth on the soft ground. He didn't know where he was. He couldn't open his eyes, he couldn't feel anything but the pain of being torn apart, and his ears were so full of the panicked screaming of his friends, neighbors, and countrymen that he didn't know what was around him. Out of his agony, Edward heard a faint whisper like it came from a butterfly. His head pounded in his skull and he gripped his temples so tight he wanted to break his own skull to relieve the pressure. The odd voice kept whispering odd unheard words above the screaming torment of the voices in his head. Edward suddenly felt like he was floating like he was lifted into the air as a feather. The voice came closer and Edward found himself trying to listen to it, grabbing on anything to distract himself from the horrible torment he was in.

"Shhh. Quiet. Quiet now. Everything will be alright. I will take you home," he heard the voice whisper to him. It sounded like an angel as Edward knew he must have been dying. The pain, blinding him and Edward thought that if he really was dying, he wished it would go faster. He wished anything for the pain to stop. He didn't want it anymore. But as the throbbing and piercing in his entire body continued he knew that the only thing he could do was lay there and cry until he passed out from physical exhaustion. It felt like hours until the peace of unconsciousness had gifted him mercy. Maybe then he could wake up in some place one might call a heaven should it have existed.

…….

_"When do you think he will wake up?"_

_"I don't know. Brother had to have made it. He had to."_

_"There is a chance someone else replaced him,"_ Edward heard the concerned voice of the Colonel whisper almost in his ear. It sounded reserved yet anything but calm. He sounded upset like he was standing right next to him.

 _"Brother wouldn't just give up. He couldn't. He still has to be here!"_ the desperate voice of his brother cried out. Edward flinched at the volume as it sounded like his brother was screaming into his ear. The noise pierced his groggy head and sent a headache stabbing through his skull. Edward groaned and slowly lifted his arm to his temple to grind out the pain.

"Al, can you quiet down? I'm here," he grumbled as he opened one of his eyes and sat up. His body was stiff and sore, creaking and groaning with each movement but he didn't feel like he could lay down for much longer, no matter how exhausted he was. There was a gasp, recognizably from his younger brother, as he sat up and Edward could easily hear the concern in his voice.

" _Brother! You're awake! You're alright!"_ Alphonse exclaimed with such a large amount of relief that he seemed to forget about Edward's headache. It sounded like he was shrieking right into his eardrum. Edward yelped at the sudden noise and clutched his head as the pain ricochet off his skull like a pinball.

"God damn it Al, please quiet down I'm all-" Edward started to scold his brother but stopped as he looked around the room. It appeared that he was sitting on a mattress stuffed with hay, which rested on a mud floor. The small hut was dark but efficiently lit with candles and the occasional oil lamp. Edward would call it humble but that might be giving it too much credit. Chickens clucked and scattered around as if the house was also their coop and a small oven made of clay laid cooking in the corner with what appeared to be a pot of laundry left to boil. Edward looked around, mouth open, and took in the place. It only took him a second to realise that he didn't know where he was. It took him a second more to realise that Alphonse was nowhere to be seen.

"Al?" he asked as he sat up a little straighter on his makeshift bed.

 _"Brother, I'm here."_ Edward spun his head and looked over to where he thought he heard him right next to him but there was nothing there. Only an empty doorway and a lone chicken stood pecking at the loose hay in the splitting mattress cover. Edward forced himself to his feet and wobbled a little bit as his stiff legs gained their balance. He stumbled forward and leaned against the door frame to see himself looking into another bare bedroom of the mud and stick built house. His brother was nowhere to be seen, and it was pretty hard to miss a looming suit of armor.

"Al, this isn't funny," Edward growled at him, aggravation overshadowing the pit of fear that was growing in his stomach. He didn't like the feeling at all and wanted it to stop. If only Alphonse would show himself maybe he could figure out what was going on. But the answer, he was soon to find out, wasn't anything he wanted to hear. There was a hesitant pause. Edward could feel it in the air as Alphonse pondered how to explain to him the unknown. No matter how he said it, it would not land easy. With a sigh, Alphonse's voice answered.

"Edward, I am here…. I am… in you-"

"In me?" Edward asked as if he needed clarification but he felt his heart slow and freeze over, the answer already being known to him since he woke up. He just didn't want to admit it was the reality.

"I am in you… in the stone." Edward didn't say anything. He didn't think he could. He heard the low roar of voice he had originally thought were coming from outside the hut. It was conversation like in a public area but he now realised it was coming from within him. He felt himself stagger as he tried to keep himself standing but the shock took him down to his knees. They were all in him. Every single person. Edward heard the stiff voice of the Colonel addressing him. He heard Hawkeye try and talk some sense into him. But Winry, her voice was trying to sound reassuring, as if he would just wake up the next day and be fine, but there was fear underneath it. She was scared.

It was Edward's natural instinct to try and pretend everything wasn't real. He wanted to think that this was an elaborate joke but hearing Winry and how frightened she was, Edward knew even with his best intentions he wouldn't be able to fool himself. He opened his mouth to laugh at the idea that the entire population of Amestris had turned into a philosopher's stone that now resided in his own body, but all that came out was a blood piercing scream. He wailed as the waves of greif washed over him over and over again unending. His chest wracked with sobs as hot salty tears streamed down his dirty face. His arms wrapped themselves around his waist trying to find comfort where there was none. No one was left.

"NO!" he yelled finally finding that language had returned to him. "No, no, no, no!" he repeated finding that was the only thing he could say to release whatever demon was inside of him. "Al! Mustang! Winry!" Edward begged them, praying with all of his might that they answer him and tell him what he was thinking was false. "Please, oh god, please." However, none of them replied as they already knew that they didn't have the answers he was searching for. Edward cried out quickly pushing himself off of the dirt floor to find the answer he deeply wanted. He had to find it. He had to. It had to be around there somewhere. There had to be an explanation that wasn't the hell they were giving him. He spun around but soon found himself entangled in two large burly arms. Edward kicked and tried to fight out of them with all of his might but the human restraints only tightened around him, keeping his arms pinned closely to his chest. He screamed and begged for the man to let him go. Tears streamed down his face as he pleaded with him over and over again until his cries quieted down with the exhaustion that was creeping over him. Calm whispers similar to the angels he heard during his night of hell went into his ear slowly soothing his mind with its lulling tones.

"Shhhh. Calm down. Quiet down. Relax. Relax," the man hummed to him. Edward choked on a sob and his breath hitched but he soon found his muscles succumbing to the man's voice.

"Th-they're gone. Th-hey're gone. They're all gone. Gone. Gone," Edward sobbed, his own voice barely even audible to himself as he found himself lulled into a spell. He was tired, he hurt, he wanted to go home but all of those things seemed so far away then. Edward found himself being picked up by the stranger. He originally would have kicked out of his arms but he found that he had lost all energy to care anymore. His life had vanished within a second. His world was gone as he knew it. Beneath the despair that consumed his body, he could only feel a numbness grow within him. Edward found himself laid down on the lumpy hay mattress once more and a calloused hand pressed the side of his head reassuringly, its strength giving Edward some peace of mind as he laid there looking into the green eyes of a dark haired man.

"Everything will be fine. Just sleep now. Just sleep," the man whispered through his short wirery beard that covered his dirty face. Edward heard a note and then another as a softly hummed tune escaped the man's chest. Edward's eyes fluttered and he didn't even try to keep them open. Exhaustion overtook him and he fell into a deep sleep.

……….

Edward heard hushed voices bicker back and forth with each other as his mind was slowly pulled from the darkness. There sounded like two of them, voices sharp and concerned. There was clattering of dishes as the unknown strangers mulled about the main room of the small hut, their feet padding on the soft dirt floor.

"The duke's men are going to come once word gets out. He destroyed half of the crop and the town is getting concerned about his screaming. Once they find out we have a crazy man sleeping on the floor of our hut, they are going to start the witch hunts here! Remember what happened in Riverdale? We can't repeat that!"

"Elija, I know. It was hard enough trying to cover up Merlin's spouting magic as he was turning of age, but we need to help him. Don't you see that this man's a witch too? We can't just throw him on the stake ourselves."

"He has cursed limbs! Odd clothes! He's going to get caught no matter what we do. If he gets caught, we either will be taken as harborers or tried as witches ourselves. You will be killing our son!"

"Merlin was the one who found him. So I would imagine it is his responsibility. Now, we must get going. If the lords don't find us on the fields, I am sure the townsmen will easily try and label us as slackers. You know how Mrs. Dubane was always jealous of our house."

"That bitch couldn't keep her thieving fingers to herself even if she knew she was stealing from a crocodile. Next time she touches my chickens I am going to turn her ears into kumquats lemme tell you."

There was shuffling, a closing of a door, then silence. Edward opened his eyes tiredly to an empty room now that his mind had reached consciousness. He felt a headache storm like a thundercloud in the depths of his mind but the gentle morning sunrise that filtered through the thatch of the roof put it at bay. It was a warm type of light and Edward almost felt entranced by how it danced across the dirty floor of the hut. He stared at it for a long time, the numbing feeling that had bloomed in his chest drying and becoming tar the more he relaxed and stared at it. At one point he found himself so enlightened by the sunshine that he reached a hand out to touch it, but the glittering gold just slipped through his fingers, his automail hand casting a dark shadow on the ground. Edward was disappointed but not surprised.

 _"Brother?"_ he heard the familiar voice ring in his ear, _"Are you going to be okay?"_ Edward closed his eyes as his little brother's voice felt like a knife to his chest. He shook his head, opening his mouth to answer his brother but the only thing that came out was a silent sob of air. He covered his mouth with his hands hoping to stop himself from breaking down once more but he only managed to muffle the sound as the tears were already flowing. As much as he wanted to be strong, he knew that nothing would be the same ever again.

There was a shuffling from across the room at the sound of his crying and he heard footsteps break through from the back room of the hut. A hand rested on his shoulder and though Edward wanted to shake it off, he found himself curling into the embrace. Calming words rushed into his ear once more and Edward found himself opening his water filled eyes to see a distorted picture of soft green eyes staring back at him. He batted his eyelids once to shed the water from them and the picture solidified and became clearer. A young man sitting in front of him. The kid appeared to be about his age, maybe younger. Long and lanky, he looked like a tree, his earthy brown hair the bark of a sapling, his piercing green eyes the leaves. His small rough calloused hands, a mimick of the ones that held him so securely during his breakdown, were holding onto his, rubbing soothing circles into the backs of them. They were not as strong, but were gentle, and still seemed to provide Edward a sense of security, a calming hope.

"H-hey, calm down, everything will be alright," the kid's soft voice told him. Edward wanted to believe him, but he shook his head knowing that it would be anything but.

"Th-they're gone. All of them," Edward mumbled, feeling another sob edging its way up to his throat.

"Who?" the kid asked, unsure of what he was referring to.

 _"Edward, we aren't gone. We are right here with you,"_ Lieutenant Hawkeye's smooth motherly voice said to him.

" _Brother, this isn't an end. It's just a new beginning,"_ Alphonse told him reassuringly.

"But you are-"

 _"Edward, just calm down. Talk to the kid. Find out where we are. Assess our situation. We aren't going to be able to change any of this if you just sit here and pity yourself,"_ Mustang said harshly. Edward's eyes widened as he heard the man scold him. Shame flooded him as the words of his commanding officer flooded into him. They pierced his being like a needle, probing the feeling that wanted to stay there and leech off him. Edward felt his numbness crack a little.

 _"We have no idea what you are going through right now. We can only imagine. This is all new to us and we are all scared. But we can't do anything to fix this without you. You are the only person who still can do something for us. So we need you to stop longing about and start to accept the fact that you have the stone now. You have us."_ Edward sat up on the mattress, pulling his hands out of the grasp of the odd child in front of him. He wrapped them tightly around his own waist, pulling himself close. He rested his head on his knees and let out a breath as he tried to force his mind to wander past the shock of the stone being in him. Yes, his friends, family, everyone in Amestris was inside him. But what now? What could he do now?

"Where am I?" Edward found himself breathing out as he tried to follow his commanding officer's orders. It was all he had at that moment. The only thing that met him was silence. Edward sniffled a little bit and drew in a deep breath as he looked up to where the kid was kneeling in front of him. His green eyes were looking him over with a sense of curiosity and fear. It was obvious he was unsure of him but he was trying his best to help which was all Edward needed.

"Wh-where am I?" Edward asked once more, his voice thick and wavering but a little louder this time. The kid shook his head, clearing his wandering thoughts and plastered a grin on his face.

"I picked you up screaming in the corn field. I thought you were hurt or something. Your apparation must have gone wrong or something. My father has seen it happen loads of times to beginners. When he first tried he ended up in the heat of Afrique. Just learning are you?" the kid blabbered on about nonsense. Edward closed his eyes in slight annoyance an exhaustion took over him. Apparations? Afrique? Edward didn't know what the kid was talking about. He lifted his hands to his temples and massaged the headache roaring in the back of his mind. Eventually when the kid had gotten to talk about his school, did Edward build up enough energy to stop him.

"Please," Edward interrupted the one sided discussion. He didn't know what he was talking about but he desperately needed to ground himself. To do that he needed to know where he was. "Please tell me where I am-"

"I am Merlin Ambrosius. You are in Dutchy of Hervor in the village of Egg."

"Where?" Edward croaked. The kid looked taken back for a second as if everyone should have known where that was.

"Egg. In Hervor…. England?" he clarified. It was obvious he was trying to find some sign of recognition in his face but Edward had none to give. He only sat there with his mouth open. There was no such place as England. He wanted to cry out once more as he realised exactly how far he was from home but he forced himself to choke it down. He brought a hand up and massaged his face, finding it sweaty and clammy. His heart was fluttering in his chest and he felt terribly sick.

"Y-year?" he whispered. The kid infront of him paled as he asked the question seeming to catch onto how bad the situation actually was. Merlin stood up from where he was kneeling and took a hesitant step back. His face was twisted into one of confusion.

"How badly could your apparation have gone that you have to ask the year? I never heard of this before!" Merlin exclaimed, his hand going up to his forehead as if he was checking himself for a fever. "You must have hit your head or something. Has to be-"

"Please. I am begging you. Tell me the year," Edward pleaded with all of his might. The kid looked hesitant but told him anyways.

"It is the year of our Lord, 992 A.D.," he said trying to act calm but there was no security behind it. The words hit Edward like a brick wall, knocking all of the air out of him. He was a lot farther from home than he thought, space and time wise. He ran a shaky hand through his hair trying to calm himself but as he grabbed a handful of locks he felt his whole body tremor in shock. He quickly doubled over and heaved, vomiting on the dirt made floor of the hut. The kid jumped away to avoid being hit by the mess. Edward was left shaking on the ground, his body hurt, his head spun and he was quickly sliding into emotional shock.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," Edward breathed finding that the air was avoiding his lungs.

" _Edward, everything is going to be fine-"_

"Fine? Fine! You c-call this fine?!" Edward exclaimed, cutting his brother off from his line of soothing thought. "I am almost 1000 years where I am supposed to be and not even in the right place! How on earth is this going to be fine?!"

 _"Brother, we are with you. That's all that matters doesn't it? That is all we needed before."_ And that was all they needed before. A type of resolve fell over Edward in his panic. Though his body still quaked from the shock and his mind spun, he knew Alphonse was right. That was all they needed, each other. They already had been through so much. They defied what most people would call impossible. They would just have to do it again, on a larger scale. Getting Alphonse's body back seemed like an uphill battle, but now finding their way back home was scaling a slicked ridgeless wall. It just meant that he would have to try harder.

Edward took in a huge breath and let it out slowly. Repeated that a few times more until his shaking hands relaxed. Merlin stared at him and watched carefully, seeming to calm down now that he wasn't standing on a sharp edge of sanity. Edward opened his eyes after a few moments and looked at them with an ounce of shame in his eyes.

"I-I am sorry about that. Everything was just so shocking I over reacted-"

 _"I wouldn't say that-"_ Roy commented but Edward brushed him off.

"I am E-" Edward started but he heard a voice cut him off. It took him a moment to realise that it was Hohenheim. He was there too?

_"Don't use your real name. If we are in the 10th century, Edward was a name only really given to the rich or wealthy. You can't let yourself stick out that much especially in a village like this. It's popularity amongst the commoners only started in the 11th century when it started becoming more common. You want to blend in. Use my name-"_

"Your name? I feel like it is too late to blend in," Edward whispered, hoping that the kid wouldn't overhear him talking to himself.

_"It's never too late. My name is Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim."_

"Holy shit old man. What the fuck name is that-"

" _Had a hard time remembering it myself."_

"No crap. Isn't there something easier to remember?" Edward asked. There was a slight pause as the man thought it over and soon he answered. 

_"Dwarf in a flask as well as my Master shortened it to Paracelsus. I used a mix of all of my names through generations to get by. I had you and your brother as Van Hohenheim. I always thought that it sounded common enough though a little classy. If you think of it, it's a little hard to pick a name for yourself-"_

"Paracelsus," Edward told the kid, interrupting his father's babble and hopefully shutting him up. He seemed oddly satisfied with the name and it stuck. Merlin leaned back with an accepting nod and offered him a hand to stand with. Edward reached out with his automail but suddenly the offer wasn't there anymore. Looking up, he saw that the kid had withdrawn like he was diseased. His eyes were locked on his hand with a complex of fear and curiousity floating through him. Edward was going to wonder why but then remembered his hand. It was automail, completely metal. He highly doubted that in the year 992 that anyone, in their dimension or not, had competent machinery let alone prosthetics and automail. Feeling the licks of shame and fear fill him, Edward quickly tried to cover up his arm. He tried to hide it in the folds of his shirt but the battle with Father destroyed nearly all of his clothes. Having nothing else left, Edward crossed his arms tight against his chest in hopes that maybe, if he acted like it was part of him, they might just forget about it.  Edward didn't feel like he really had the energy to get up, but he took it and soon found himself wobbling on both legs. Sensing that it was a sensitive topic, Merlin reluctantly dropped the topic and led him over to the only table in the entire house so that he could sit. Edward still caught his eyes glancing to his metal arm now and then. He pulled a chair out for him and Edward found himself collapsing down in it within the second.

"You are an odd wizard, Paracelsus, and I know you are scared. Apparating for the first time is unsettling, especially if it goes wrong. My first time doing it I almost inverted my kidneys-"

"W-wizards?" Edward gasped. Merlin raised his eyebrows.

"Yes? You are one aren't you?" he asked hesitantly. It looked like the kid was having second thoughts about him and that made Edward uneasy.

"I am not a wizard! Magic doesn't exist!"

"Of course, you are a wizard. You popped out of nowhere in the middle of the cornfield. How do you not know magic exists? Even the muggles know that magic exists! It is just that they think it is evil that they are trying to kill us for," Merlin argued with a huff. He was looking at him more and more like he was insane by the moment but Edward was thinking the same about him.

"Magic does not exist. I am not a wizard or whatever mumbo jumbo you talk about. I am an alchemist. What you saw me do… that was a mistake-"

"An alchemist? Never heard of that type of magic before-"

"It isn't magic!" Edward retorted angrily, crossing his arms with a huff. What his obsession was with magic, he didn't understand but alchemy was anything but that. "Alchemy is a science of changing one thing into another-"

"You mean transfigurations-"

"No! It's alchemy! It's…. Ah! Come over here," Edward growled, giving up on the argument that was obviously going nowhere. He strode over to the fire and used his automail hand to scoop up a handful of ash and brought it over to the table. He used the dust to draw out a circle on the rough surface. He slapped his hands to it and alchemic energy filled the detailed ring and soon a portion of the table was quickly transformed into a small little figurine of a bird.

“See? It’s a science. I use the compounds of the table to change it into something of similar mass and material,” Edward started to explain but he looked up to see Merlin’s mouth hanging open in awe. His hand cautiously reached out and picked up the small bird ornament and looked at it.

“You… you performed wandless magic-“

“It isn’t magic!” he screetched but it fell upon deaf ears.

“What school do you go to? Where did you learn? I just started to go to Hogwarts. It is the newest school for magical academia but they don’t teach you this! I don’t even think Professor Ravenclaw can do something like that-“

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Edward stated, wishing that the kid would just make sense. “Wands and magic do not exist! This is alchemy! Don’t you have this?”

“Don’t you have magic?” Merlin asked as if he hadn’t listened to a word he had said. Edward opened his mouth to argue but suddenly there was two loud shots of gun fire and suddenly two people were standing in the hut. Edward let out a small shriek in surprise though Merlin was unfazed. They looked filthy and covered in sweat, a terror riding through their eyes. An older man was the spitting image of Merlin sitting in front of him with dark shaggy hair and sharp green eyes. The woman, similar with her long brown hair tied hastily back into a bun with straw and other materials sticking out of it.

“Merlin, grab your wand we have to go,” the man said as he quickly buzzed around the room grabbing as many valuable things as he could find.

“This is all your fault!” the woman exclaimed as she waved an accusing finger at Edward. “You are a stupid foolish wizard! I am not risking my family over someone who just came out of nowhere and started spewing magic out his ass like it would have no consequences!”

“Elija calm down. I am sure it was an accident with his apparation-“ the man tried to calm his wife down but it did little to help.

“Accident or not, Marcus, I am not getting burned because of him! Merlin! Hurry, they are coming!” she shouted into the other room where their child was quickly recovering his own things. She took a stick out of her pocket as she dumped her laundry onto the muddy ground and bundled it up into her arms.

“What the hell are you talking about? Magic doesn’t exist! Apparation? Wands? I don’t understand!” Edward exclaimed for what he felt was the tenth time that day. He heard the rise of angry voices in the distance. He didn’t know what was happening. Why were they leaving so quickly? What had happened?

“You son of a bitch! You got my family killed that’s what!” the woman screetched at him when suddenly the straw roof caught ablaze and the dried hay from the summer months was quickly consumed in flames. Edward heard rioting voices from outside pick up and he realized that they were under attack. Villagers outside held torches and weapons as if they were ready to go to war. Instead, they were fighting an innocent farmer and his family. Smoke quickly filled the house as the entire hut went up in flame. Marcus quickly grabbed Elija by the shoulders and hurried her out of the house just as the roof was going to fall. Merlin stumbled out of the back room of the house coughing and failing to wave the smoke away from his face.  Edward blindly grabbed Merlin and tugged him out into the daylight. He coughed and sputtered as the smoke cleared from his lungs and eyes. Something hit him hard across the face and he fell quickly to the ground.

“Stay down,” he heard the knight above him say. “This doesn’t concern you.” Edward looked around the horrifying crowd of peasants, soldiers, and of the likes. They chanted and cheered as if this man hunt was a game, a small victory in an invisible war. They raised their makeshift weapons in the air and howled at the Ambrosius’.

“Witches! They are witches!” he heard angry voices exclaim.

“That boy Merlin cursed our crops! We are all going to starve because of him!”

“Everyone in that house was born from the devil!

“Burn them and send them back to where they belong!”

The Ambrosius’ cornered by a row of armored knights. The entire crowd was chanting for their deaths even as the small family stood defiantly where they were kept, except for Merlin who was being pulled away by a rough handed knight. He tugged away from them, the fear in his eyes longing for the safety of his family once more. Marcus and Elija reached out for him but the guards kept them back against the fire of their family’s long gone home. Merlin was quickly dragged a few feet away from where Edward was and forced to the ground by the knight. A priest marched out of the crowd holding a bible in his hands and stood over the frightened boy.

“Merlin, you have destroyed out crops by the hands of the devil, and God has looked down on you as the scum of the earth and labeled you a witch. You will be executed swiftly for your crimes against man, nature, and the church by way of beheading. Do you repent for your misdoings?” Merlin was too scared to move or even answer. Edward could see how terrified he was. He was going to die, and it was because of Edward and his stupid stone. He was the one who destroyed the crop and got caught with what the peasants must have thought was magic. He had unknowingly brought this upon their family. He had exposed them for whatever this genocide was for. As Merlin failed to provide an answer or a defense, the priest closed his book and took a step back nodding to the guards beside him. One of them unsheathed the sword that hung at the side of his belt. The cool slick metal shining in the sun, sharp and deadly.

“Stop!” Edward yelled at them but it did little to slow the knight down. “Stop! It wasn’t them it was me! I hurt the crops!”

“Be quiet!” the guard above him scolded. “You will get your turn, witch.” Edward panicked as he saw the knight line up his swing to behead the young boy without trial, without a defense. The knight raised the sword but it had never reached its target. Edward felt the blade plunge itself into his stomach as he stood firmly between Merlin and the executioner. A warm metalic taste rose through his throat and before he knew it he was sent to his knees, the sword being taken with him. He didn’t even realize he had run forward. He didn’t even realized he had pushed Merlin out of the way until he was already paying for it.

“ _Brother! Brother you idiot!”_ he heard the terrified voice of his brother shout at him. He obviously did not like the sight of his brother with a sword in his gut. Merlin scrambled backwards and there were three loud bangs beside him and the crowd instantly roared in anger. The Ambrosius’ were gone. The executioner above him grew angry for his lost prey and yanked his sword out of Edward, not even caring who it was lodged in. It tore a scream from his throat as it was drawn out but the pain didn’t last long. Suddenly angry red alchemic lights swirled around him and the crowd howled in fear. The light blinded Edward’s vision and the terrified screams of the crowd and people inside the stone consumed his mind. He heard the people inside the stone panic which struck a new fear in him. The light grew in intensity and then suddenly vanished like nothing happened. When it was done, the pain was no more.

“Immortal! He’s the devil himself!” the priest exclaimed as Edward looked down to where he was clutching the wound in his stomach to find it was simply not there anymore. It was healed. His jaw dropped open in shock. The stone. He had forgotten about the stone. He had no time to regain his bearings as suddenly his face was shoved into the dirt. A rough hand held his face and his neck down and he was sure his neck was going to snap. Someone fumbled for his hands but were clumsy with it. Edward pulled himself out of the faze he was set in and clapped his hands a wall erupted from the ground and shoved the soldiers away from him. The roar of the crowd shook the earth.

“ _Fullmetal, you need to get out of here. This crowd is insane,”_ the Colonel ordered him. Edward staggered to his feet as the other guards started to draw their arms to ready for a fight. He felt drunk with the confusion and fear that was swarming inside him. He didn’t know what was going on and he didn’t know what he should do. He swayed a bit as he saw a knight charge at him with a polearm. Edward clapped his hands again and a mound of dirt rose up in front of him to knock the guard back. The knight fell and Edward scaled the wall to get out of reach of the other soldiers and villagers. He wavered as he ran along the edge but stayed true. The wall was out of reach of the pitchforks and swords but not of the knights chasing him. Stuck now on the ledge above a sea of angry people, guards started to clumsily follow him onto the rise of dirt. Edward looked around him for a place to jump but the sea of villagers was huge and there wasn’t enough material left in his wall to make a safe bridge over them. He either had to choose to fight the crowd or fight the guard.

“Get him!” he heard the knight say behind him and he spun around not realizing that they had managed to fully scale the wall with their heavy armor on. A sword was pointed threateningly at him. Fear swirled through the stone as the guards advanced. Though it wasn’t his own, he still felt the overwhelming emotions of the stone consume him. He started to shake as he drew his blade from this automail. Lieutenant Hawkeye began to try and calm everyone in the stone down which eased the feeling but Edward’s balance was still off set as the knight infront of him lunged.

Edward ducked beneath the sword and quickly jabbed the knight’s side with his palm. There was a loud crash as the man tipped over and fell to the earth several feet below in his large tin can armor. Behind were ten more. Edward stepped back to gain some more distance between him but he teetered on the edge of the wall. He would have fallen over into the crowd if he didn’t regain his balance. He braced himself for the guards to charge him but it never came. The soldiers hung back and it wasn’t until there was a crossbow bolt sticking through Edward’s chest that he realized why.

 _“Brother!”_ he heard Alphonse panic again as he saw his elder sibling die for what was the second time that morning. The distress of his brother consumed his ears as Edward collapsed and fell off of the wall into the angry crowd of people. Guards pushed through the peasants as Edward choked on the blood that was rising through his throat. Red lights sprung around the new wound in vain as it struggled to heal him where the arrow was still stuck. Edward dazedly watched the guards pull his arms back and restrain him in heavy wooden stocks, having learned a valuable lesson on what alchemy could do. With one quick yank the withdrew the bolt from his chest and Edward gasped as the wound quickly closed up. He coughed and sputtered as he regained his ability to breath again. It wasn’t long until he had his face slammed into the muddy ground and a heavy boot laid upon his back. He jerked and struggled to get free but the guards only began to restrain him more.

“Magic doesn’t exist” Edward croaked, his mouth full of mud and grim. A knight smacked him across the back of his head with the butt of his sword. He saw so many stars he thought he went blind. He heard his younger brother screaming at him to get up and fight, to not let them take him. Alphonse was terrified and his cries consumed Edward’s mind with fear and grief.

“You might have let your fellow demon worshipers leave but no one is going to come to save you. We are going to burn you at the stake before the night’s through to send you back to the devil which you came from,” the man jeered. “Get him on the horse!”

“Someone send word to the Duke. I am sure he would want to witness this one getting its due.”

 _“Brother please, fight. Escape. I can’t see you die again!”_ Alphonse cried as Edward was roughly thrown over the back of a horse like luggage. They were going to take him into the castle and he doubted that being trapped in there would give him better odds. However, Edward, no matter how much he struggled could not escape when he was so completely bound under ropes and chains. He could not promise his brother he wouldn’t die again.

Within the castle walls he died twenty more times before the day was through.


End file.
